


Proclamations, Ejaculations

by intoxicated_by_our_lies, klismaphilia (orphan_account)



Series: The Mafia (ie the fuck ups) [4]
Category: Town of Salem (Video Game)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Anal Fingering, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Decisions, Bipolar Disorder, Blackmail, Bloating, Breast Fucking, Cheating, Cleaning, Cuddling & Snuggling, Desperation, Dirty Dancing, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, F/F, F/M, Fingering, French Kissing, Fuckbuddies, Hoses, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, Klismaphilia, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Mental Breakdown, Mild Smut, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Masturbation, Neck Kissing, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pegging, Porn with Feelings, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rimming, Self Confidence Issues, Series, Sexual Tension, Strap-Ons, Suicide Attempt, Teasing, Texting, Triggers, Vaginal Sex, What Was I Thinking?, aluminum nozzles, cramping, facesitting, it's actually hot though, messy blowjobs, shared kinks, snarky dicks being snarky dicks, water distension, well mafioso is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-05 21:37:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 35,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5391296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intoxicated_by_our_lies/pseuds/intoxicated_by_our_lies, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/klismaphilia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The four times the mafia bowed for each other, and the one time they didn't." [mafia x mafia]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. even silver foxes need love

**Author's Note:**

> Mafioso x Godfather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> carmine is oblivious, julian is a yandere, and gioia is introduced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> godfather x mafioso / godfather x consort

He felt almost childish, almost like a fool, and he wasn't sure how many times he'd scolded himself about just how much of an idiot he was being… but in the end, it hadn't changed anything. To be fair, he didn't know if anything would- because as much as he felt like a petulant child, inadequate and desperate whenever his Godfather was so much as mentioned, it didn't change the fact that… he kind of was.

It was embarrassing. It was stupid. It was something that he couldn't help and… and it just wasn't fair. Or maybe it was, really, because nobody was closer to Carmine than he was, nobody knew the Godfather the way he did, and that was something that wasn't about to change. Because he was the favourite for a reason- even if he felt like a fool for it.

He loved him.

The Mafioso had known since the moment he'd laid eyes on Carmine, matched his own dark ones with those icy blue orbs. He remembers how his breath had caught that day- and how it had been catching just as much almost everyday since. He felt like a mess, wanted to scream and just melt whenever the Godfather so much as spoke to him. The touches were even worse- he couldn't keep his skin from tingling and his heart from panging whenever the man rested a hand on his shoulder or smoothed it over his cheek. It made him want to cringe, so stupid and weak and sensitive. He felt like a teenage girl, the type who had a crush on their high school English teacher for four years and didn't say a thing about it even though it was blatantly obvious to everyone.

That didn't keep his cheeks from heating to a bright pink as the Godfather looked him in the eye and spoke, words that Julian wasn't even sure he'd caught, a glance that almost made him want to look away at how… intense it was. How omnipotent. And it was ridiculous- Carmine was an old man in comparison to him. But for some reason… he craved his touch more than anything else in the world. Craved that contact and those stares…

He just wanted to make him happy. But more than anything, pleasing the Godfather just made the Mafioso into more of an obsequious mess. And it was embarrassing. It was… weak. Submissive. Foolish.

But he needed him. Him. No one else.

Carmine barely lifted a brow at the blushing mafioso, before sighing and looking back down at his paperwork. Whatever the mafioso was thinking was lost to the Godfather. He couldn't quite say that he didn't care, but he also had to admit that he was curious. More or less, he just didn't have the energy to rack his brain for an answer.

If the Mafioso felt the need to share what was on his mind, he figured, he'd share it with him eventually.

His eyes danced across the paper, barely taking in what it said. The words all seemed to run together- untrustworthybackstabbergossipysnitchfilth. It wasn't the first time it had done so, of course not. Almost every document he had read all seemed to read all ended up looking the exact same in the end. Their faces staring back at him, betrayal just threatening to leak from their eyes but prevented from to with forced smiles that was stained with blood from them biting back insults and vulgarity.

Perhaps he'd been here for too long, all alone at the top with no one to trust or confide in about his paranoia of every single mafia member that has and will work for him. Except for him- his beloved mafioso. Julian would never.. he hoped. The boy had worked underneath them for so long, lapping at his feet like a puppy that begs to be noticed and loved. He'd grown so fond of him, it'd be such a shame to have to have him killed.

Carmine barely noticed what he was signing, only that he had to sign his name. Whether it was to have him tortured and executed, or to add him into the mafia. It didn't quite matter to him anyway- or at least, he couldn't figure out a reason to really care.

If he was a traitor with the sole reason to live being to bring down the mafia and kill him, let him. He had some confidence in his men to bring down the man. (he hoped he would; he craved something to ease his boredom.)

Once had finished, he motioned for the member to leave with a simple nod of his head. Turning his attention to the Mafioso, he asked, "Julian, what else is on my schedule today?"

(God, he prayed and hoped for something interesting.)

"Well, you see… the… uh, Gioia moved something… so you… that is to say, I mean… I c-could keep you busy if… if you need but… there isn't…" the Mafioso sucked in a breath, trying to pull himself together, hands smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt before he finally settled on, "You… have a clear schedule, sir. Is there anything that you… need to be taken care of? I'm free." Always free for you, he added mentally, giving a little startled cough as he matches eyes with the Godfather.

He can already feel the abrupt shaking in his legs as he tries to stay upright, because goddammit this is not the time to be romanticizing the situation, you fucking lunatic and why the hell are you so shaky- stopstopstop!

He sucked in a breath and looked at the Godfather again, using a finger to push up the wire framed glasses that were sliding down on his face, before relaxing with a shaky sigh.

"Forgive me for saying, sir, but you look… hassled. Er… stressed. Is there anything I can do? I just…" Just what? Wanted to make him happy? Wanted to keep him company and just… be around him? Yeah, because that wasn't fucking weird. He exhales, looks to the chair, wondering if he should sit or not…

"I mean… I can leave if you'd rather, Godfather, sir."

The Godfather ran his fingers through the remaining bits of his hair, massaging the soft spot of his temple, giving a soft sigh as he tried to think of what to say to the younger boy. He grew increasingly tired of his stuttering, submissive pattern. Carmine could never stood why he was like this- he was constantly at the top, in one of the highest positions a man could ever be in. It constantly bugged him on why he was so weak.. at least he was loyal.

Perhaps he would ask him to leave.. let Julian and himself get some rest, they were both always so stressed and worried.. maybe some rest would help them calm down. No- there was work that needed to be done and in a timely manner. Unfortunately. "No, you may stay," he motioned for him to sit down, pointing down to the chair close to him. "Please, Julian.. take a seat."

His fingers nervously tapped at the desk, looking up at the man once more. He shook violently, like he was about to be punished. Amusing as it was, he didn't enjoy watching the boy shake. Since he was his first hand, the man that reported to him everyday without question, he'd need to grow a backbone. Any sign of confidence would be nice, actually. Even just a sliver of it.

"You're not in trouble," he finally said after several moments of complete silence. "Please, stop shaking."

Carmine almost hoped he'd find a reason to respond, other than I'm sorry sir or I-I apologize sir, I-i'll see to it that I-I try to stop. Even just simple, inane topics would please him. He couldn't stand the silence. They rarely had a moment to speak, and it was always interesting to watch Julian hang onto every word. It was rare to find anyone to speak to that didn't seem to desire to betray him and take their spot on his throne.

"Julian.. do you think Gioia is busy right now?"

He couldn't keep his hands from shaking, but the comment at least managed to relax him somewhat, as he sucked in a breath and looked up at the older man, with a barely audible "Apologies, I wasn't... wasn't thinking, sir. I just..."

He tried to turn his attention away, fingers scratching at the skin of his wrist absentmindedly, shutting his eyes briefly. He tried to focus on- on anything else. The scent of aged wine or the sounds barely audible through the wall... or what Carmine had just said.

"Why the fuck- I… I mean… um." He choked back a breath; he hoped it wasn't obvious, just how irritated the thought of the Consort with his Godfather made him, but he was already shaking again, trying to shut his eyes in an attempt to calm himself. If… if Gioia had been touching his Godfather, he swore on his fucking life-

"She's… I can only imagine how busy she is, sir. And how busy you are… don't worry. I can… I can leave. Just… I don't want to bother you. I-I guess… I can find her for you. Or anyone. Anyone at all."

"Pity."

The Godfather sighed, annoyed and a bit upset that she wasn't available. Gioia was always such a pleasure to be around, so sweet and thoughtful. Even if she was basically reduced to just a whore, she was one of his favourite people to be around. Her soft, small hands on his, gently tracing the faded scars on his hands and chest with sweet words and promises of pleasure.

"I've grown rather attached to the young girl," he looked back down at his empty desk. "See to it that she comes into my office at once, please."

"Julian," he looked back up. "I'd like to be alone now."

He wants to be alone? The Mafioso couldn't help cringing at that, internally cursing himself with words he wasn't even sure he'd used before, because fuck he'd ruined everything all over again and-

There was no fucking way that Carmine didn't know. He was… he was avoiding bringing anything up, but he couldn't deny the urge pushing against his chest, like a sudden and intense weight from a load as heavy as bricks. He wanted to choke, but to be fair, he already had. And that was it… he felt like a pathetic child, being scolded for some inadvertent trouble he'd caused….

Did the Godfather even care about him? Did he… did he even think of him the way his Mafioso wished he would? Was he- did anything even fucking matter?

He had to press fingers into his temples, staring down at the floor in an attempt not to let himself get overwhelmed. His head was aching, almost fearfully, wondering just what he should do if… if he wasn't needed. If Carmine didn't want anything from him. Maybe he should… leave. Kill himself. Commit mass murder. The scenarios were endless, really.

Fuck them, he thought, his hands clenching into fists. None of them care about the Godfather the way I do- nobody else fucking deserves him-

"You know that I'd kill anyone for you, sir?" He asked, but without a response, simply stood, pushed the chair back in and turned away. He was shaking again, Julian noted, but this time it was from the sheer intensity of… of his envy, rather than anything else. "Just… e-excuse me. I'm sorry, okay? I c-can't… yes. Sir. I mean… I'll get Gioia for you. Anything else that you want?"

"No, you're dismissed." The Godfather leaned back, closing his eyes and spinning his chair around until the back of his chair is completely turned away from the uncomposed mafioso. "Thank you, Julian."

The mafioso spluttered, saying something that he didn't quite understand and slammed the door behind him. He sighed again, digging his fingers into his scalp. If he wasn't already concerned about his hair life expectancy, he was now, seeing as he had been repeatedly running and pulling at his hair to keep himself calmed. All he really wanted for today was to be calmed down by Gioia and then finish whatever repetitive paperwork that he had to work over.

Leaning back into his chair, the Godfather wiped his eyes. He wondered if anything would happen anytime soon; something exciting, something that he can focus his energy on for a little while.. something to brighten his and his mafia members moods up, to keep them on their toes, and ready. Even the jumpy mafioso would enjoy something happening, he hoped at least.

* * *

He had to bite down on his lip the second the door swung closed behind him, entirely too sure that, were a word to escape his mouth, it would be a curse, a scream, an insult because nobody else, nobody else should be allowed, fuck, fuck, fuck-! As ridiculous as it was, he just… he just couldn't hold back that intense, overwhelming rage that bubbled up in his chest whenever he thought of any of them- Consort, Janitor, Framer- touching Carmine. Because they were such… such fucking whores, who didn't have the slightest hint what true love was-

It wasn't like he was going to scream, though. Maybe cry. Maybe… or maybe he'd be able to just swallow it down and go hide under a bed or something with his hands over his ears as he tried not to think of what it would sound like when…

Thoughts aside. He swallowed, a deep breath when he finally raised his hand to knock on the Consort's door, having to tug his lips back into something that potentially resembled a smile, fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt when it finally swung inward.

Why the hell did she have to be so pretty? Everyone… everyone felt like competition these days. And he felt so… small in comparison.

But nobody else would kill for him… nobody else would give themselves to him like I have. But then again, it's only been a few years… maybe… maybe he just needs more time. Maybe he just needs to think… I know… I know he needs me like I need him-

"Gioia," he said, curtly, staring at the woman, folding his glasses up and pushing them into his pocket. "As much as I'd… love to visit… the Godfather wants to see you. Guess he just needed some… company." Or, well, the company of a fucking whore. Julian gave a slight quirk of the lips, looking over the woman's shoulder so he didn't have to meet her eyes.

* * *

That fake ass smile sent shivers up her spine. That little bugger was one creepy dude, so much so that Gioia wouldn't touch him with a ten foot stick if she had the option, but the Godfather needed him to do his work so there's no reason to argue with him. She waited 'til Julian had made his way to the furthest room and then decided to make her way to the office. It was late out; rather, likely close to midnight, judging by the weather outside.

She isn't sure how exactly she ends up with her mouth between the Godfather's legs, her hands gripping onto strong thighs as she moves her mouth to an unimaginable degree, entirely too hot around the man's thick girth. Can't deny it happens a lot though- she's a Consort. Pleasure is her business, and goddamn if she didn't enjoy being the Godfather's favorite.

It's almost amusing, how much pleasure it brings her to know that she's the only one allowed to please him so intimately, so different than the rest of the mafia, who couldn't help throwing themselves at him like fucking animals. More than anything, it amused her- especially the Mafioso. Despite his obvious lack of sanity, there was something so impossibly desperate about him- maybe it was the bluntness of his dislike for the whole of the mafia, excluding his precious Godfather, or maybe it was the fact that he was so obviously a virgin, waiting for Carmine to fuck him for so long that he was almost more of a whore than any of them-

She wonders just how much sexual tension there is underneath that sickening, fake exterior- judging by the looks of it, quite a lot. The Godfather was so blind it was almost endearing- maybe that was why she always swallowed, or maybe it was just because she enjoyed it. As much as it killed her not to be in control, the Godfather was in the very least, something to be admired- although she didn't bow her head to just anyone. The fingers curling in her hair, tugging her closer, were just a sign of how much he needed her.

And to be fair, everyone needed something from her.

She's barely gotten him to the point of release when there's a sudden banging on the door, and she swallows the Godfather's thick release without another thought when she hears someone fiddling with the locks, seemingly rather needy from the rattling and the shallow curses. It's no surprise to her- that's just how some people are, too fucking weak to keep themselves in control for too long.

Gioia liked to think of Julian as the prime example of weakness.

* * *

He wants to scream, is so fucking annoyed that he can hardly take it, fiddling with the knob on the Godfather's door until he can pull it off and see her, glancing over with a glare that's enough to make his blood boil. And he isn't sure if it's the way the atmosphere in the room suddenly turns to ice or if it's his own head that makes him finally snap.

"You're cheating on me, you disgusting motherfucker?!" The Mafioso can't keep his hands from pulling on his hair, tugging it so roughly he wonders if he's going to pull it out- but the Godfather wouldn't appreciate it if he did that. He had to… had to keep himself perfect for Carmine, even if he was too goddamn weak looking to do that. He barely thinks before he's digging nails into the side of his neck, so annoyed, so… hurt at the fact that Gioia was giving his Godfather a blowjob while he was forced to sit out in the cold and muse.

"Sir, I… I… I'm very disappointed in you." He finally says, unsurprised when the Godfather raises an eyebrow, the Consort tugging his pants up and fastening them loosely.

"All you two do is sleep around- you don't know the meaning of love. You… you don't understand what I do. And I can't take it anymore. Why don't you notice me? Why don't you want to fuck me? I just- I just- fuck, sir, I can't stand it!"

It's practically hell when the Consort gives him that sly smile, presses her mouth to the Godfather's ear and whispers words that are too fucking clear to be surreal.

"You know that he's a virgin… right?"

"Shut the fuck up, you whore! I hate you- I hate both of you! Carmine, I've given you everything! Everything I have is yours! My body, my mind, my gun… my heart. I only want you! I want you to have all of me. And you go around screwing these filthy whores? I'm yours. Only I am so devoted to you- I'll kill the entire goddamn world to have you. Hell, I've been saving myself for you. Nobody else will ever touch me. Because we're in love. I need you. I want you to just fucking notice, Godfather- I want you! I would rip out my heart and give it to you if it meant we could be together. Stop pretending you don't know! Nobody else deserves you! Only me!"

Carmine had barely noticed the fact that Gioia had made herself rather comfortable on his lap, grabbing his jacket and snuggling her head against his neck and shoulder. Her hands playfully exploring his body, digging her lower body closer to his crotch. While he didn't mind- in fact, if they were alone, he'd probably encourage her- with the mafioso in the room, it rather dampened his mood.

Frankly, it was rather annoying. He really did just wish that Julian would just learn to collect himself and leave. Being interrupted right as he was releasing himself in the mouth of Gioia, making a huge scene... none of it was dignified of someone so high up in the mafia. If anything, it made him more annoyed. Julian should be better than this, much better, but yet, here he was, unclothed and spilling vulgarities right in front of him. Effectively, he was no better than any of the other grunts. Carmine had to remind himself to speak to him in private about this- if he was willing to do it so casually, and often enough, often, who knows what he would say if he was being interrogated or tortured by the jailor?

Honestly, he wasn't quite sure what he should address first. Perhaps his disobedience and rudeness on entering his office uninvited, his crass language that was used in front of a lady... Maybe he should start from the bottom, to get it out of the way so he could move on to the more important stuff. While the one he had picked out first really wasn't.. well, important per se, he would still like to acknowledge it.

"Julian-" Carmine began, as Gioia moaned from his chest, wiggling so that she was more pressed up against him, pushing her chest in his face. "Are you a virgin?"

The second the words slipped from the Godfather's lips, he could feel the heat building in his cheeks, immediately turning his eyes downwards to avoid the man's appraising gaze. He almost wanted to shake- from anger, annoyance or just plain heat he couldn't tell. He twiddled his fingers against each other briefly, trying not to let any more information out than he should. Goddamn Consort. Still, it was enough that he could barely cough out an "Um… w-well, about that… I j-just… like, uh… I…"

He swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling much drier than before as he tried to cover the blush building on his cheeks by pressing his hands over his face. Mentally, he had to curse himself- like that doesn't make it totally obvious, Julian- but externally, he couldn't help it. Seeing Gioia smirk at him like that and the Godfather's unending stare was enough that he wanted to just turn around and leave.

But no- he'd come this far for his Godfather and there was no turning back at this point. Although it annoyed him that Carmine was basically disregarding everything he said in favor of some slutty Consort- seriously. What the fuck. It wasn't like… like he was only now realizing this, was it? There was no fucking way. He just…

"I just…" the Mafioso tried to start again, his voice somewhat shaky as he finally looks up, his lips quirking into a smile that was more psychotic than what it should be. "I was saving myself for you, Carmine. I only want you. I want… I want you between my thighs. I want you to fuck me so hard I forget how to say anything but your name. And afterwards, I want you to hold me and tell me that you love me too. Because if you don't… then I will not hesitate to kill her, you, and every other member of the goddamn mafia who could've taken you away from me. But remember, Carmine-senpai, I do this because I love you."

At that, he simply gave a grin- a grin that was actually completely genuine, his eyes nearly closing before a slight laugh escaped his lips. He brought a hand up to brush through his slightly-tangled black hair, folding his glasses up and tucking them into his pocket again so he could give a steadier glance to the man sitting at the desk.

His outburst would definitely be addressed in the meeting; along with a warning to watch his mouth around women. If he had problems with either him or Gioia, he should've waited until the both of them were free and taken it up with them in private. His current way of doing so was wasn't just unprofessional, but also very insulting to both of them.

Gioia's lip brushed against his chin, rubbing her cheek on his neck and further stretched out. "He's so angry, Carmine… don't you think? So unprofessional.. do you think he's taking any of those pills I used to see him oh so subtly take?"

She raised a good question, something that he hadn't really thought of yet. Has he? Carmine should know whether or not he was taking them or not, after all, they spent the majority of their time together.. He cursed in his head, repeatedly. He really should've made sure he was- he was always at his best when he was. Even if he disapproved of them, he couldn't deny they made him much more mellow and easy to deal with. The exact opposite of him currently.

"Julian," he raised an eyebrow, lightly attempting to push the consort off of his lap. It failed. "Are you alright? Should I call someone for you- I believe Keon and Akivya would gladly sedate you if you're in need of something urgent and quick acting."

Carmine attempted to remember what else he had said in his speech, though he had to admit he barely payed attention to what he was saying. He had quite a large number of things distracting him, things that seemed to settling into his lap even more. He'd… he'd been saving himself for… him?

He… he almost felt insulted- Carmine thought he needed someone to sedate him? But- but he'd never been happier… at least, he doesn't remember it. He doesn't remember feeling like this in a long, long time. Since before the Godfather had forced him to start taking that goddamn medication; the mafia had seemed so pleased with the decision he'd wanted to puke. Didn't anyone understand him? It was… it was so simple…!

"Why- why would I need pills? All they do is keep me from being up front with you- they keep me from loving you, they just… it fucking pains me to see you with her, Carmine. Gioia, you're such… such a bad girl… you just make me so angry. I'd love to wrap my hands around that pretty little neck of yours- but that's besides the point! I-I'm fine, completely fine."

He attempted to laugh it off, taking a deep breath afterwards as he tried not to let the frustration show on his face, but it… it almost hurt. Carmine didn't pay any attention to what he said- could probably care less about him. He… he didn't love him? Did he… did he love Gioia? She was such a fucking slut, though- a total whore, throwing herself all over everyone and moaning like a goddamn bitch. She made him want to rip out his eyes so he didn't have to watch her be so fucking pretentious…

No, she didn't deserve Carmine. Nobody else deserved him- nobody was good enough for him, nobody would… would do any of the things he had. He'd… he'd even gotten rid of his biggest competition! Not that the Godfather knew that, but… a Consort was nothing compared to a wife.

Julian couldn't help cracking a smile at the thought before he covers his face again, groaning almost harshly enough to tear his throat. He didn't need to think about… about any of that, not right now. Right now he just needed his Godfather to return his feelings, to admit what he already knew, to just say those three little words… He didn't have anything else… anything else to live for. He just wanted to cry. If… if the Godfather told him to, he'd do anything- if he told him to turn himself in, walk in front of a car, he'd do it. He just wanted to know.

"S-sir… Carmine, if you… if you don't want me… I just… there's no point anymore. I-I can't… just… if you… fuck, I just… I'll kill myself. I don't give a shit anymore. Just- please…"

"You're not going to kill yourself, Julian," Carmine reached a hand out, motioning for him to sit down again. "Please, calm down."

He supposed that his mafioso wouldn't be calming down anytime soon, he'd end up getting worse the longer this goes on. It upset him greatly. While he did earlier crave the drama, he would've preferred that it had not been so close as to effect him. Honestly, it annoyed him more than it did anything else. This new revelation of him… well, he couldn't exactly bring himself to say exactly what it was.. was disturbing and oddly surprised.

Still, as Gioia kissed and sucked on his neck tenderly and Julian on the verge of completely collapsing, he had to be the one to smooth the situation out. He finally managed to shove the kittenish woman off of his lap, removing himself from his seat and moves in front of his desk so that he was properly staring down the other man.

"I'm very disappointed that you would decide bring this up in a time like this, it's extremely insulting to all three of us to watch you throw a tantrum, airing out dirty laundry that should've been kept between two people." He scolded, keeping his voice steady and trying not to upset him even more. Carmine moved his hand to cup the boy's face, noticing that it was an unnatural pale colour compared to it's typical darker colour. His thumb rubs against his cheek, noticing the colour returning, though a light pink blush taking over most of it.

He waits for a response, curious to see what he would say. When he's met with tears falling from the mafioso's face and broken words, he simply sighs. "Julian, please.. act like a man, not a child." Carmine brought his face closer until he was only a hair away, the mafioso's breathing very quickly speeding up. "If you calm down, I will reward you."

A simple nod, hesitant but desperate, is all he needs before he connects his lips with the mafioso's and moves his hand to push his head against his to deepen it. It only lasts for a moment, but he assumes it'll be enough to get him to relax. Carmine was getting tired, close to announcing that they'd resume this in the morning and retire to bed, but he forced himself to shell out just a bit longer and then he'd do so with the consort in tow.

"Carmine," Gioia whined from the desk. "You shouldn't give into his childish demands.. it's not fair to rest of us. He called me a whore, darling.. are you really going to let him get away with this?"

Inwardly, she was laughing. She was hoping that they'd do this earlier, avoiding quite a big one sided fight. Still, it was amusing watching the mafioso be scolded and screaming declarations of love. Much more amusing than she previously assumed it would be. She'd have to tell the others how it went, they'd all enjoy it as much as she was.

Should he feel bad? To be fair, Julian didn't know- everything that had been running around in his head had turned into an overwhelming sense of fear, loneliness and desperation… just at seeing Carmine with Gioia. Just at… thinking that she was with him, that they could… could sleep together every night, could get married, have a fucking baby- it was the past repeating itself. And even worse, it was being blatantly thrown in his face.

Maybe they were right- maybe if he… if he hadn't quit taking those stupid fucking meds everything would be better. Or at least, for them it would have been. He… he didn't want it to be so hazy. He could barely even feel his Godfather when he was drugged up- he wanted to feel everything about Carmine. His hands, his lips, his body, his muscles or fat or anything- everything about him deserved to be worshipped. And Gioia couldn't possibly understand that.

Nobody else understood. Carmine didn't understand. The Mafioso couldn't keep himself from sucking in another breath, letting it out as a needy, broken sob that almost made him want to cringe as he curled in on himself. Maybe… fuck, anything was better than this, that kiss that only further threw the presence of the annoying Consort in his face, the way she was now clinging to Carmine's arm and looking up at him with those wide eyes…

He wanted nothing more than to cut her throat, let the sticky scarlet and alzarin shades cover his hands until he could barely make out the color of her skin. If it was Gioia's blood, he figured he wouldn't mind painting his skin with it- maybe after he broke some shit. He could imagine forcing the bones of her hand out through her skin… her screams would be such a pleasantry.

Was this… was this why everyone was so disdainful towards him? Julian was never one hundred percent on what exactly the mafia's problem with him was, but… he got so sick of being called crazy, got so sick of being talked down to, just because he might be a little mentally unstable in comparison to them. That didn't mean they had to point it out every fucking chance they got- he was so sick of it! And the Godfather just ignored it, didn't even try and defend him…

He might as well go all out, anyway. It's not like it would change anything at this point.

The Mafioso wiped the tears away from his cheeks, pulling another deep breath in as he looked up to Carmine, barely noting the icy glare on his face as he pulls himself to his feet, and begins to make his way toward the door.

"I-I'm s-sorry, sir. I'll… start… m-maybe you should have them sedate me, if it'll g-get rid of the problem."

Gioia had pressed herself against the godfather, giving an amused grin at the back of the head of the mafioso. It was so fun to watch the boy have a complete breakdown, even if it ended rather boringly with him crying and asking to be sedated.. still; wasn't every day that she could see Carmine's right hand (or rather, his left hand) man act like this.

She wrapped her arms around the older man, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. "Carmine," she smiled lightly, giggling softly. "You can really pick the best men.. your own mafioso is batshit insane."

He couldn't help the horrible, intense feeling of aggravation that was pooling in his gut as he whirled around to stare at the Consort, still clinging to the arm of his Godfather. She blinked up at him almost innocently, but the amused grin she aimed at him was all but as she taunted him with that fucking kiss-

He couldn't help himself. Julian barely had time to take a breath before he lunged at her, his hands grasping for the fabric of her dress, enough that he could pull himself closer to her with a sharp, "You fucking cunt-" that he never got to finish, the door slamming open right as he was met with a scalding glare from Carmine.

"Carmine, I-I'm sorry," he says, letting go of her, but he can feel the tears pooling in his eyes again, and then he hears something else leave her lips, something like 'crazy', and he can't help it, falling to his knees and practically slamming his head against the floor as he struggles from the sheer want to pull her down, fucking climb on top of her and choke her out until all the life drains from her horribly distracting face-

"Stop looking down on me!" The Mafioso barely managed to force out before he was being pulled away, giving a glance up to the Godfather as he tried to force out something else, tried to catch his breath, his eyes widening almost rapidly at the situation…

"Stop this," Carmine was anything but gentle as he pulled him away from the disgruntled consort and towards the two other mafia men. "A proper man should never ever touch a woman, Julian. I'm disgusted by your actions here."

The two others, Keon and Akivya, both seemed to understand exactly what they needed to do. They took hold of both arms of him, unwilling to let him escape from their gripes seeing as they just watch the previous scene unfold. It would be extremely wise to keep the man sedated tonight, or how ever long the godfather wanted him under.

Carmine looked over to the girl, giving her an apologetic look as she cursed underneath her breath and waved him off. While it felt wrong to do so, he had to supervise the young man. While he did just proceed to almost assault his girlfriend, he still cared a lot for the man. He wasn't ever like this when he was on his medication, he knew this for a fact. Gioia would understand, even if she didn't like it. She'd be welcomed to retire into his bedroom for the night, even if the chance of him joining her were rather slim now.

* * *

Everything hurt. It was like a sharp, tearing, searing pain that started in his neck and spiraled through his veins until it had engulfed absolutely everything in it's path. Harsh, hot and impossibly difficult to bear, he was barely able to force a breath past his own lips. For a few moments he just lay there, choking on air that he wasn't able to take in, barely processing anything that had happened, because he couldn't piece a damn thing together…

And then he was leaning forward, attempting to clutch at his chest as he coughed, so forcefully it rattled his chest, threatening to extend the pain that was there, along with the pounding in his head. He could hardly see- everything was so blurry, so… static that it wasn't possible to get a read on anything, not even the room. Was it… was it his room? He wasn't even sure, could hardly feel anything aside from the trembling in his own skin.

A jutting ache ran through his spine, causing him to pull himself away, lying back on the bed with his unyielding restraints around thin, bony arms as he turned his face away from the dim light in the room. There was… there was something he couldn't make out, something he wasn't sure of… although he knows, more than anything, how intense the rage had been, how… how angry she'd made him, and oh my fucking God, you idiot, you fucking told him- you said everything, and they're together and now there's no way you can just get rid of her if you want to keep your fucking head-

He manages to turn his head, just barely, looking over at the shadowed corner across from the bed, almost hopefully (although the hope would just be wistful at this point; any chance that the Godfather held affection for him had been all but crushed, just because he was such a goddamn moron…)

"S-s…" he tries to cough out, but his tongue won't let him form a single word, won't let him do anything but push a few, barely audible noises past his lips.

"Julian," he stood up, reaching over to place his hand on his. "Don't fuss, you're still heavily sedated. Lay your head back down."

Carmine wasn't quite sure what he was saying, barely awake and exhausted from waiting all night for the mafioso to wake up. The chair he was sitting didn't even attempt to give him any support, not that he wasn't surprise. Nothing in the mafioso's room screamed comforting: no familiar photos, sheets that didn't look old and unused.. plain, boring.

He sighed, again. It wasn't if he blamed him, if anything were to ever happen and they'd need to leave, he was glad that Julian wouldn't take too long saying goodbye to any of their sentimentals belongings. It was better that they not be held down by hings. Still, nothing here showed that he was even just a little bit attached to anything. Except for him.. which he very clearly explained to him for a few hours last night.

"How are you feeling? You look pale still, do you want me to get you some water?" Carmine touched the mafioso's head with the back of his hand, frowning at how dank, sweaty it felt. He felt bad for letting him getting like this, but he doesn't much to ease his pain or mental problems. It felt like it was wrong, to hate him slightly, seeing as the only thing he was able to do was take medication. He always heard him complain about how it made him feel, but he couldn't do anything other than just keep telling him to take them, that he was better with them than without them.

Remembering the medication, he removed three orange pill cases and set them on the bedside table next to him. He made sure to force him to look at them, grunting to get his attention when he loudly slammed it on the table. "We need to talk, Julian. About earlier."

What is there to talk about? To be fair, he felt as though he'd more than exhausted himself of all rational thought, barely managing to flex his fingers as he raised his eyes to meet the Godfather's. He swallowed, throat entirely too dry to feel anything- but he didn't need water. Carmine didn't deserve to waste time on someone as stupid as he had made himself out to be.

That being said… why the hell had he gotten together with Gioia? The filthy bitch was barely worth a second glance; she'd betray Carmine the second she saw a better option for herself… she didn't deserve him. She didn't deserve to live. None of them- absolutely nobody would love the Godfather as well as he had. Nobody else would kill to have him…

"Dis-moi merci, monsieur." he finally hissed out, barely audible in the chill of the room, when spoken with such a rasped breath. The Godfather's disapproving eyes did nothing to shake him, still lying there as he struggled to gain enough leverage in his arm to take those goddamn pills. He barely managed to force them into his mouth before he was looking back up to the Godfather with a mumbled curse of 'merde' under his breath.

"S-speak…?"

Carmine sat himself on the edge of the bed, returning his hand on the other's hand. "I did not appreciate you having a fit in my office earlier, Julian. It was very disrespectful of you to do so- even more so when you physically attacked Gioia."

He gripped his hand, ignoring the wincing sound that comes from the boy below him. "I should lower your rank, expel you and force you out of the mafia.." he takes a moment to calm himself down, drawing a deep breath and untensing his shoulders. "But I won't. Do you know why I won't?"

When nothing came out of the boy's mouth, thankfully, he continued. "Because I care for you, Julian. While not in the way I can see you.. hoping, I care very much so for you in a different sense. I apologize if you're not happy with this, but this is all I can do for you. You have become something of a son to me, and I'll never stop thinking of you this way.."

He wants to cry, wants to scream and beat his fists against the Godfather's chest, wants to shout so much his voice goes raw. But more than anything, he just wants to grab him and wrap hands around his neck and choke him until he turns blue. Julian has to curse himself for the thought, almost to the verge of collapsing again as his skin tingled and hands trembled.

He barely managed to move his fingers to curl in Carmine's shirt, his eyes staring straight at the man, still too difficult to blink. From here he could take in every inch of his face, every inch of his flawless skin and those piercing blue eyes… it's enough to make him tense, shoulders locking up rigidly as he hisses. He wants to smack himself for the words that finally come out.

"I'm s-sorry for being… delusional, s-sir. It… it w-won't happen… not a-anymore. Please…" And before he can help himself, there are crystalline droplets falling from his eyes and over his freezing cheeks, slipping off almost despairingly as he clings to the man with such desperation it's almost physically painful.

Carmine let the man cry into his chest, wrapping his arms closer to his body, and pushing his nose into his hair. Perhaps it would be best to let the mafioso rest for a few days, to take into the news.. he was sure their consigliere would gladly take his role, just for a little while, anyway. It made him upset to think about it, but he had to accept the fact that the mafioso needed some time to get back into reality.

"Julian, please stop," he forced him to look back at him, noting the salty tears that stained his face. "I'm sorry. You're young, you have plenty of other choices… you could do much better than me, boy."

His fingers brushed and pulled at his hair, the tips of thumbs wiping the tears from his eyes. He felt like such shit for doing this to him, even if he tried the gentlest he possibly could to reject it.. fuck, he'd never be able to forget this moment. Even if he tried, the sound of him crying will forever be replaying in his mind.

"Please stop crying," he pressed his lips against his, once more. It lasted longer than before, much longer. He didn't pull away, and neither did the mafioso. He brought his hands up to the mafioso's face, caressing his cheek with his thumb and closed his eyes. It seemed to last forever, but once he pulled away, he regretted deciding to do so.

The look on the mafioso's face pained him greatly, desperate and confused mixed with blissful hope. It was hard to decide whether or not to apologize for it, or to tell him he'd do it again if he promised to stop crying.. he cursed at himself, again and again until he made up his mind on what he wanted to do.

Carmine brushed off the wrinkles on his suit, giving a tender rubbing of the man's hand, and pulled himself up. "I'm.. I apologize for that, Julian. Please, rest. I'll have our consigliere take your place for the next few days while you recover.. please don't hesitate to come and talk to me when you feel better." He looked away from the man, barely able to walk to the door without wanting to turn back. "Good night, Julian."

He doesn't know what to say. What to feel, what to think… whether or not he should keep crying or if this means he has a chance. He wants to believe that- the latter- so bad it makes him tense up as another whine leaves his mouth thoughtlessly, trying as best he could not to just stay staring at the back of the man walking towards the door.

Still, it was enough that he was so flustered, suddenly so much more emotional than before, almost heated as his cheeks continued to turn redder the more he thought about it. He barely managed to choke out a "sir, p-please, don't leave-" as he watched the Godfather pause in his movement, enough that the Mafioso could practically feel his breathing stop.

"C-Carmine?"

"Yes?"

Carmine forces himself to turn around, noting the fact that his voice was higher than.. well, higher than he'd ever actually heard himself go.

He doesn't know how to stop himself from reddening further, especially when Carmine's eyes fall on him again, his back arched and spine curved in a way that he almost felt ashamed of. He could barely focus on the Godfather's words, simply trying to pull away from that stare, as if it would fix anything.

When his words finally slip out, they're nothing like he wants them to be, his hands trembling as he shifts his legs, letting his thighs fall away from each other just slightly as he tries to choke back a moan.

"Carmine… I-I need you. P-please…" he finally says, trying to hold back another sob when he thinks his Godfather's only going to turn away again… it's almost a thought he's ashamed of, the notion that maybe if he was needy enough Carmine would want him- even if just from pity. Still, he could… pass it off as effects of the sedative, could claim he was still delusional, could…

"Fuck, sir-" he moans, his head tilting back ever so slightly as he avoids the Godfather's disbelieving gaze. "I'm… nn… I don't know what's wrong with me, G-Godfather. I j-just…"

"T-this is highly unprofessional," he says this but yet, his feet drag him over to him, forcing him to sit down right down next to him. Carmine's lips felt weirdly dry, cracked and painful to move. "Julian.." his eyes locked down on where his hips were arching forward, a small blush threatening to appear on his face. Cursing to himself, he forced himself to swallow whatever curses that kept trying to escape his mouth.

His fingers twitched, slightly shaking as he rested a hand of his inner thigh. He didn't know why or how he was doing this, after all, he had just told him he had thought of him as a child.. but yet, he was about to do something like this just minutes later. Did he develop feelings for him in that amount of times.. no, he didn't think so. It seemed to keep him happy, it calmed him down almost immediately.

He wanted to tell himself that it was only to calm him down, to keep the peace.

(He hated lying to himself.)

The hand resting on the inside of his thigh, smoothing over the thin fabric covering his skin was enough to make him quiver, his legs trembling as Carmine's hand smoothed over the sensitive areas of skin where thigh connected to hip and pelvis. He wanted to… wanted to cry, but anything more would just ruin all this…

He couldn't help it. There were a few tears that spilled down his cheek, followed by a longer moan as he tensed up and tried to keep himself from getting so worked up. "Carmine, I-I can't… what's… aah, I just… my head feels so… c-can't. Need… something."

Carmine leaned in, moving his free hand up his body and kissed his neck. The moans that escaped both his lips and Julian's sounded like music, causing his to suck deeper on his neck as he tried to imagine anything else but this. Why did this feel so wrong? He felt stupid for continuing, enabling him into believing that he had a chance.. it felt so nice though. Thoughts went to his deceased wife, rest her soul.. the feel and touch of her skin, so soft and fragile. It was too much like the mafioso's, and it killed him inside.

"Julian.. if you want me to stop-" he released his hold on his neck, noticing his made quite the impression on his neck.

He could practically feel all the marks, every inch of skin that his Godfather had marked, almost swollen in comparison to what it had been before. He wondered how it looked… wondered what people were going to say when they saw it, all purple and red, practically like he'd been defiled. But god if he didn't want it, need it, crave it.

"Nnn… 's… f-feels nice sir. I feel… l-loved. Is that… w-what I'm supposed to feel? D-do you… need to leave? I'm s-sorry. Don't know what's wrong with me… Carmine… you have no idea…" he tensed up with a gasp as he felt the hand slip further between his thighs, rubbing against the bulge growing in his pants.

"My s-skin is yours." he managed to hiss, hoping it didn't come across as unnerving as it sounded. Julian wrapped a hand around the back of Carmine's neck, trying to just bring him closer still, wanting more, more marks on his skin, more touches to his hot flesh…

"Just.. tell me when you want me to stop," he kissed his lips once more, breathing heavier than previously. The tips of his fingers trailed the veins trailed his cock, before he hesitantly took it into his hand and let himself pull on it gently. He wasn't very experienced in how to actually handle someone else's, seeing as he was always on the receiving end of them.

Julian thrusted himself into his hand, moaning his name that just made him feel so much more in the wrong about continuing this. Carmine tried to ignore his feelings, wanting so much to just… feel numb to this. He tried to think of Gioia, of his wife, Bellissima.. Belle.. His lips found his neck again, biting down onto it and tried so hard to think of Belle's beautiful thick lips, her blonde hair.. he felt sick, the desire to see his wife once again returning to his stomach. He tried to shift to thinking of Gioia.. yes, she worked. Her moans, the way she called her name with a thick accent that reminded him of home.

He moaned, growing hard himself as he continued to tug the boy off. "G-gioia.. fuck-"

He said her name. Her, the one who didn't deserve him, disrespected him, was so unbelievably fake that she made Julian want to puke whenever he matched eyes with her makeup-caked face.

But wasn't he… wasn't he being just as fake right now, his head suddenly aching, feeling like it was going to fracture into a thousand pieces. He shoved Carmine away, biting down on his lip, wrapping arms around his impossibly fragile frame with a sob.

"Please… just leave. I-I feel so sick, sir. D-disgusted with myself. You… I'm just… n-nothing. I think… p-please leave me my pills, sir. I just… don't w-want to think about what I've d-done. Please."

"I'm sorry," Carmine attempted to leave in and kiss him as an apology, but once the mafioso moved his face, he simply sighed in defeat. He gripped his leg, moving from his bed and returned to making his way towards the door. Right before he completely opened the door, he turned back and nodded. "Please, get plenty of rest, Julian.. Goodnight."

Carmine wondered briefly what would happen in the next few days, if things between them would be the same. Things would certainly be different.. Was it wrong that he was excited to see? No, he didn't think so.

A faint smile appeared on his lips as he slammed the door behind him, ready to actually be able to retire. With the thought of his mafioso fresh in his mind.

…..

At some point it had come to this. He supposed it might be fitting; still rolled over on one side, curling in on himself further and further… He wanted to disappear. More than anything, he just wanted to disappear, to quit feeling, because he was so foolish and annoying and just… it wasn't anything he could help, really. Hell, he didn't know if he could help anything anymore.

He couldn't help his own feelings. Couldn't help that god-awful, wrenching heartache when he realized that there was nothing to live for. And maybe he should be scolding himself for it, Julian thought- for giving up on love, for just… wasting himself like this when absolutely nobody else in the goddamn world would be able to do what he had done. When nobody would even think about… about killing for someone. It just made the thoughts even worse, more persistent, almost… shameful.

Should he be ashamed of himself? Probably. But for what it was worth, he hadn't felt anything- not really. He might not even to be able to feel if he tried. That alone was enough to make him give a horrible, half-pained, real smile that was probably the most honest expression he'd seen on his own face in years. He barely managed to drag in another breath, before he took the last sip of the water, trying to push down the feelings lodged in his chest along with the pills.

You know what sucks? Realizing everything you've ever believed in is a lie. Really, really sucks. He thought, a dry hiss of a laugh parting from his lips at that, before he turned away from the door and walked back over to the bed, just barely managing to lie down on it as he let his muscles start to accept their weakness.

There just wasn't a point.

* * *

Carmine could go back to sleep, instead, he paced the room. Anxiety has built in his chest, worried about what Julian meant when he asked him to leave. Why leave his pills-he'd seen him watch him leave them on the tablet next to him. Fuck, he'd watch him do so.. it didn't make sense, it didn't make a lick of it.. it confused him, terrified him of all the possibilities that could happen to him..

"Carmine," the consort whined from the bed, barely clothed and looking rather annoyed. "Please.. your pacing is getting very annoying, come lay down with me. I need you."

"In a minute," he waves a hand at her, giving one of apologetic smiles that he seems to be giving to almost everyone these days. His mind still kept on his mafioso.. he didn't think he was safe, anything but that. "Gioia, please.. go back to sleep, darling, I'll be back soon."

She voices a complaint, though he's not quite sure what it exactly is. He barely hears a thing, only able to hear the pounding in his ears. His heart beats too quickly, almost alarmingly fast. If he wasn't already worried about Julian, he'd worry about his heart.. it didn't matter right now, once he had made sure the boy was okay, he'd worry about himself.

Once reaching the boy's room, he pounded harder than he intended to do. Carmine hadn't quite noticed that his hands were shaking until he managed to throw open the door.

He isn't sure just how badly he's shaking, swallowing back his own fear as he tries not to let the sound affect him; his cheeks are soaked, absolutely covered in tear trails, still trying to quell the sound of the sobs that keep breaking loose from his throat. He isn't sure how long it's been, who might have found him, if it even fucking mattered at this point…

It's only a few seconds before he hears a crashing noise and feels something impossibly warm pressing closer to him, his skin freezing cold, paler than even the night before. He barely managed to bring a fist up to smack against the figure's body with such a weak passion it's almost trivial.

"P-please don't d-do anyth…" Julian choked from between sobs, grabbing for the other's sleeves as he tries to force the hands away from him- but his arms were pushed away easily, forced aside as he felt the person grab him roughly.

Carmine was barely able to hold the boy up properly, his knees almost giving out under him as he pressed the boy to his chest and attempted to drag him over to the bed. He'd honestly never felt so… scared, panicked and fearful for another human being before. And it killed him, it tore him apart on the inside and he was damn sure that it showed on the inside. He couldn't remember the last time he was felt terror like this before.. the last night he ever felt genuinely fearful was when.. Belle died, when he had found Belle dead, skin burnt and charred like a piece of meat. They had the arsonist burnt in return the following evening.

"Julian-" Carmine finally got out, voice cracking as he pulled the two of them on the bed and wrapped himself around the boy, brushing his hair back from his face and feeling his forehead. "Please- say something. Talk to me- can you even hear me?"

"C-C…" he choked out, recoiling on himself as he shakes, feeling the Godfather's arms wrapped so tightly around him, so warm, more than he could've imagined it to be… hesitantly, he buried his face in the side of Carmine's shirt, fingers shaking as he wrapped them in the thin fabric.

"N-nobody… don't know… Carmine. I-I feel… just… d-doesn't matter." he pulls himself away then, retching as he leans over the side of the bed, unable to keep himself from lurching forward as half-digested pills litter the floor; he can feel Carmine's hand on his back, rubbing against the exposed flesh, tugging him back into his arms, enough that he can tremble and cry and curse into the other's skin…

"Julian," he keeps repeating his name until it sounds foreign and his throat burns, but he doesn't stop saying it as he rocks the boy back and forth like it's the only thing he can do because it is and he has no idea what to do. His nails are probably digging into his skin, and he feel blood dripping down his hands and staining his clothes, and he curses. Blood is a bitch to get out of clothing, but he doesn't bother caring, the janitor can throw it out for all he cares. He presses his lips against the boy's forehead, romantic looking or whatever be dammed.

He had no idea what to do or say, he just rocked them both, trying to calm himself down and pretend they were both anywhere else but here. A thought of the stress giving him a heart attack or something just as severe crosses his mind, but it's gone as soon as it came. There are so many ideas and thoughts and desires and scenes that play through his mind, and he can't focus on them all, they run through his mind like someone is beating him and-

For a moment, the world feels blank and he feels completely numb- Julian is loud though- so loud and he can't hear anything else but the sound of his tears hitting the floor and he's still vomiting… his breath comes out in the shortest of pants and he forgets to inhale as he's finally letting tears fall from his own face. The world is going dark, spotty, and all he can do to force himself to stay awake is to stare at the boy's face, no matter how gross and sickly it is. It makes him feel sick, grossed out and confused on what to do again, but.. he doesn't think. He forces himself to act on instinct.

"T-tell me what to do-" he's not used to doing things on his own, and it's painfully obvious for both of them. Carmine feel embarrassed and hates himself for it, but- he can't change history no matter how much he truly wants to and oh god, does he.

I don't know what to do, he thinks, pulling his arms further around himself as he shakes and sputters and tries to force out something that resembles words as the Godfather's hands fall on his shoulders and pull him to his chest again. He feels tired… exhausted… beyond the capacity for words. He doesn't know if he even has the strength to cry anymore; defeated as he lets himself sink back against his Godfather's chest and clench his hands into barely-curled fists.

He isn't able to say almost anything, simply pressing his face into the mattress and the messy heap of blankets as an attempt to shield himself from Carmine because he wasn't supposed to find me, wasn't supposed to worry, fuck fuck fuck-! As relieved as the Mafioso was that he was here that he did love him in some way or another, he feels so weak now… like a silly little mess, all covered in tears and vomit. Dramatic for no goddamn reason, and nobody who-

He cares. He does. Carmine… Carmine cares about him, loves him, came back for him… he must have realized, Julian thought. Their connection was so intense that not even death could break it. In… in sickness or in health, right? He just… it was so obvious now, and he couldn't believe he'd been so stupid as to believe otherwise.

"S-stay with me?" he rasps out, throat sore and raw and so acidic it burns. "P-please, sir… y-you came back, why… please… I-I need you. So w-warm… just stay… h-hurts, Carmine."

The fast beating of his heart finally slowed down after several long moments, much to Carmine's great pleasure. "O-of course," he hated the way he sounded so weak now, too worried for either of them.. he had to be strong for them both now, like the leader the boy had looked up to. He gave a nervous laugh, ignoring the vomit and the tears that stained his cheek as he kissed him.


	2. the good, the bad, and the slutty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gioia gets jealous of Carmine's developing relationship with Julian and goes to Akivya for some comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consort x Janitor

It was so fucking frustrating. Akivya wasn't really sure if there were words for the situation- everything that came to mind seemed too shallow to even describe his feelings as he stared into the unappreciated glass. There were smears everywhere. As much as he’d tried to clean it, running around with sponges and rags and windex, they just weren't coming off.

He was more than ready to just draw a heart on it in sharpie and walk away; it's not like he ever really used the thing anyway. Not as much as he used… well, everything else. And Keon could shut up about the pink curtains he'd decided to decorate all the rooms with- they were cute. And besides, it was almost New Years. Everyone could use a bit of cheer. That meant color.

The Janitor barely had time to take a breath before he finally peeled the latex gloves off his hands and collapsed on the bed. The stress was nearly overwhelming… I've got to change that. Maybe… maybe I can ask Keon… I'm sure he'd love some… activity. Especially if that Botox is working the way it should be-

His thoughts were cut off by the door swinging open, rattling on it's hinges as it's slammed in with a surprising amount of force. Akivya shot up with a shout of surprise, almost recoiling when he saw Gioia. “What are you doing? I'm… I'm not even wearing clothes, bunbun. Just… just wait a minute, sugarmuffin… wait… is this because of the curtains?”

Gioia only gave him an overdramatic sigh, throwing herself into the janitor’s bed, and didn't bother giving a glance to the younger man. She didn't really know why exactly she chose Akivya to go to after being ignored by Carmine for what felt like the millionth time this week, but she didn't really regret it.

“Aki,” she did her best to draw out his name. “Why are men so cruel? They're so quick to grab and obsess over the nearest woman their dick points to, but lose interest so quickly. It almost feels intentional, breaks my heart.”

Gioia wiped a fake tear from her eye, letting her voice drop sharply with the last sentence to show how desperate and upset she was over it. Honestly, she berated herself for being so surprised when her Carmine began acting like this. She was a consort and she knew first hand about what happens when a boy falls for a girl. She really couldn't count the the number of boys who've proclaimed their love for her only to lose interest and eye up the next skirt that caught their eye. Boys were predictable, men weren't supposed to be. They were supposed to be devoted to one person and one person only- forever.

But Carmine didn't get this memo apparently. No, he chose to ignore her and play around with some bipolar little boy that only furthered his flame for him and kissed his ass. That was fine with her, she couldn't give less of a shit about it even if she tried. If he had his playtoys, she was entitled to her own

Akivya would never turn her down or ignore her.

Admittedly, the janitor’s first reaction was to let out a sharp half-shriek when the woman flopped down on his bed, rolling over and looking up at him with her startlingly dark eyes. Do you even know how much time I spent making that bed? You- you just-

Nonetheless, he managed to cut himself off mid-thought, attempting to pay attention to whatever the consort was saying… something about men being cruel, blah, blah, getinfuckingline. Not that he was going to say that, per se, just… he needed to find the right words. He wasn’t entirely sure whether he should take Gioia’s visit as an insult to his masculinity or not… Like… “I… um… d-dearheart, I mean… I am a man, you know.”

The look she throws him only furthers to dampen his mood as he gives a long sigh. “Okay, okay… I mean, yes, I get where you’re coming from. Some men like to just lust over some hot piece of ass they’ll never have instead of the person they should be binding themselves to! I mean… love isn’t fantasy, right? Surely somebody has to understand that… although, to be fair, I prefer sex to romance, my darling Gioia. It’s so much more fun to just beg and thrust myself onto some guy’s dick instead of worrying about whether or not he has feelings for me.”

Akivya sucks in another breath, rolling onto his stomach so he could meet eyes with the woman properly, trying not to take note of just how tight that shirt was… he’d never preferred women, but he couldn’t help admitting that Gioia was a hot mess that he wanted to clean up. (Maybe he should pretend he never had that thought; to be fair, the puns got a bit old at times.)

“That still begs the question, honey bunny… why did you choose to come here? I mean, there’s Vita, there’s Jaina, there’s- a lot of people. You could probably have brought it up with your bunbun, right? I mean… little old me… what can I do for you?”

Gioia moaned annoyed, stretching out on his bed. “Carmines.. my darling Carmine is runnin’ around with the mafioso-” she spit his name out like it gave her a bad taste in her mouth. Crinkling her nose, she gave another sigh. “It’s disgusting, really. They’re just.. I can’t even explain how gross they are together; like homos sucking each other off constantly. I don’t understand it.. Carmine has me to please him, and I’m willing to suck him off and do whatever he wants, but he prefers to have some.. some fucking child to do that.”

It felt almost natural to hate him, it felt right at least. Constantly chasing her fiancée around like a schoolgirl with a crush, lapping up his every word and sucking up to him.. it was so annoying, never being able to talk to him without the mafioso listening in on them. Julian acted like a child, constantly crying and throwing tantrums that only fortified her way of thinking. It only pissed her off more when she was trying to talk about very personal things with him, only to find Julian hiding and listening to them with way too much attention and interest.

“And besides,” she giggled into her hands, giving him a wink. “I’m not gay.. if I can help it. I’d rather not fuck any of them right now.. I want someone,” she pulled herself closer to him, puffing up her chest and attempting to show more than what was really able to be seen in her tight shirt. “With some.. special equipment to fuck me with.”

“That's cute… you think I want to fuck you,” Akivya said, resting his chin on the palm of his hand as he stared at the consort, widening his eyes. “But what's in it for me, babycakes? I'm sure you know that I'm more into… rough. Stuff little girls shouldn't be playing around with… although you're just a naughty thing, betraying our precious Godfather like this…”

He sighs, turning over onto his back again and glancing up at the cracked ceiling. “I suppose I should tell you that it's downright sexy.” The janitor dragged in a breath, sliding a hand along his ribcage and down to his pelvis, trailing thin fingers over his bony hips, trying to ignore how dumb it must look with all the thigh hickies. “I don't know how to respond, my dear consort… but I suppose ‘take what you want’ will suffice. Unlike you, I don't charge.” he added a small, barely notable wink to that, focusing on the position the woman had settled into.

“Gioia…” he murmured softly. “You have such a lovely chest… mm… do you want me to touch it? Do you want me to trail my tongue along those rich curves and suck? I want you… I want you to push yourself against me… I want you to cum on my face, when we get down to it… what do you want, my little kitten?”

“It’s not betrayal if he did it first,” she pushed herself over to him, hovering over his still body. “Besides, a girl has to have a little fun.. I want it so much too- I miss being touched by other men, it was so nice hearing them crave me and my body. But Carmine is so mean to me.. he want me with other men anymore: but Carmine won’t touch me. No, no. That’s saved for his darling little mafioso.”

She never got what she wanted anymore- no matter how she tried. Even if she stripped down to the sexist of bras and panties, Carmine only ever shoved her away and said he had work. He’d rather touch himself than touch her. Gioia never felt more insulted than she did with him half the time really. They used to be so perfect together, the constant fucking and touching and kissing… people have had to get the jaws of life to separate them when they were together- but now. They haven’t touched each other in months and she couldn’t tell someone when the last time they fucked was.

“It’s not fair, really,” she gave another annoyed sigh, repositioning herself so that she was cradling his crotch and played with the hem of his underwear. Oddly enough they were woman’s. Wasn’t the first she had seen a man wear something like this, fuck, she’s had guys ask to keep her’s. People have their weird fetishes and sometimes it pays to work with them rather than exclude them. “You wouldn’t keep me waiting and wanting for so long would you, Aki?”

Her hands slip into his pants and she manages to slip his cock out. She caresses it slightly with her fingers, slowly getting into a pace as she continued. “I hate all the silly games he plays with me, actin’ as if we weren’t gettin’ married so soon.. he has to keep me satisfied, just like I’d be willing to do for him. All I really want him to do is fucking me in the ass sometimes, he used to like doing that.. but he’s so boring anymore. Only wanting to kiss and to lay down together. If that even most of the time. It’s like he’s trying to deprive me out of one of my basic human rights..”

Her eyes met back up with the janitor, before giving him a light smile and leaning in close enough to whisper, “But.. enough about my- our darling godfather.. I’m sure you get tired of hearing about him too.. tell me, Aki.. what’s it that you want to do?” she pressed her lips against the side of his cheek, tapping her sharp nails against the side of neck. “I just want to be touched, like I deserve..”

“Well I just want to be touched,” the janitor responds, almost cringing the moment nails dig into the bruised-up flesh of his neck, shifting until his hardening cock is pressed against the inside of the consort’s thigh, her skin impossibly warm and flawless as she finally lets go enough to trail fingers against his hip, the flesh practically trembling wherever she touches it.

“Gi-Gioia… fuck… nn, I want you to mark me, wanna feel your teeth on my neck… imagine how hot it's gonna be with my cock inside you… pushing up into your t-tight heat… ugh, I need you to… please, Gioia… I want you to humiliate me.”

He barely had time to reflect on what he was saying- how desperate it came across, just how insanely needy he was… somehow so much worse than Gioia despite how frequently his incursions were. Still, it’s enough that when she pushes her hips down against his, he can’t keep a shallow moan from leaving his lips, followed by a sharp intake of breath as he felt the nails move from his neck down his chest.

“F-fuck… Gioia… mistress,” Akivya hisses, all but quivering when he finally feels her hand take hold of him again as she pushes herself forward, breasts practically smothering his face as he struggles to place his hands around her hips...

She’s always enjoyed topping. If it was because she craved being a leader or it was because she really liked hearing them moan her name, mistress, or what, it was still a huge turn on for her. Carmine never let her top of him, always overpowering her until she was back laying against the blankets or demanding she get off and- the memories of him just plain out ignoring her whines to just let her for once top just piss her off even more. For once, she’s glad she that she decided to run to someone else to satisfy her needs instead of having to do it herself.

Once she’s sure her breast are firmly in his face, and she’s pressing against his hips and thrusting, she cups his face with one hand and uses the other to move her breast near his mouth. It feels like an eternity before he realizes what she wants him to do, but once he does, and his lips sucking on the sensitive part of her breast, she can’t help but moan his name and place his remaining hand on her breast.

“Do you like that?” her breathing gets faster as she moans it out, quickening her pace and thinking of how perfect this scene almost looks. Gioia could barely control herself as she thought of all of the possibilities of what they’d do tonight. She was curious about how the janitor wanted to be humiliated by.. toys, verbal words, roleplaying, spanking..? The choices were really endless, and all of there just turned her on much more.

He let out a low hum as his lips wrapped around one of the consort’s nipples, tongue toying the dark bud until he could feel it hardening, one hand slipping beneath her shirt, toying with the hem before pulling it up to expose her chest. She was so petite, fine bone structure and a body like a model, practically… it was almost surreal to see her like this, let alone with him.

He can’t help thinking of what she’s going to do to him… call him names, smack him, turn him on his stomach and go to town on his ass until he can hardly think straight, dig teeth into his neck until he bleeds…? The ideas only cause him to inhale again, far too excited to get his thoughts out of the way. He drops his hand from her breast, lowering it until it can slip past the waistband of her skirt and brush against the soft skin of her abdomen.

“You’re so soft, baby… mm… tell me, sweetcheeks, what are we gonna do? I’m sure you’ve got ideas in that pretty little head of yours that would make a man like our beloved Godfather cringe.” Akivya smiled, pulling his hands away and letting them drop uselessly at his sides. “You have no idea how much I’ve n-needed this, Gioia… nnhn… I’m always so desperate, so unbelievably horny. You can’t even imagine how difficult it is to- to… fuck-” he barely managed to hiss out a curse as her hands began to slide the underwear off of his thighs and down past his knees.

Almost immediately, he was arching forward and bucking his hips up against hers, fingers curling in the sheets of what had been a perfectly made bed as he hissed, “Toys are in the chest under the bed. Anything you can possibly imagine, cutie pie. P-please… nn, I want to be filled, want to fill you-”

“What a gentleman..” she rolls her eyes, letting her hand drop and caress his abdomen. She smiled at him, gentle and lascivious, laying down on her side before lunging off the bed. It takes a moment before she finds a rather large chest- she almost giggles like a child when she does find it-and almost pouts with annoyance with how much toys and lubrication she manages to find in it. “Carmine made me throw away all mine,” she wraps her finger around one of them. “He said only bad girls had them, he’s so mean.. he wouldn’t even let me touch him with a vibrator..”

“What to use, what to use..” she taps her lips with her finger, humming lightly to herself as she took several long moments to pick the first one she wanted to use. Once she did, she gave another smile at him, licking her lips to let him know how happy she was with her choice. Moving back up onto the bed, she strokes the man’s leg. Gioia kisses the inner part of his thigh, ignoring his cock in favour of teasing him. She fingers several small scratches on his knee, moving her lips up and down thigh and leg.

“Aki, turn over..” she finally manages out, pressing a quick kiss on his chest before moving back from him. It felt wrong to continue teasing him- he clearly wanted her to just fuck him.. but, she was so sexually frustrated and.. and just wanted to show how bored and annoyed she was.. surely teasing someone who wanted to fuck and play just as much as she wanted to was okay? If not, she was fully prepared to go down on him.

She played with the strap-on her hand, clearly getting annoyed with how long he was making her wait before she could really get ready to fuck him.

He wasn’t sure whether he should keep teasing her for the simple fact that the consort was teasing him, or if he should just turn over for her. He settled for simply pushing one leg to the side, spreading them ever so slightly as he looked up at her with a sultry smile. “Are we getting frustrated, honeybun?” He asked, somewhat tauntingly, as he brushes his leg against her slightly spread thighs, waiting for her to say something…

Eventually, Akivya just rolled his eyes, unamused by the look Gioia was giving him as he turned over onto his stomach every so slowly, spreading his legs as far as he thought he could, one hand tangling fingers into the sheets as he felt her move closer to him.

But God, she was so fucking warm, pressed up against his back so closely he felt almost insanely turned on already… he almost wanted to turn his head, grab her and force her to stare at him, prefers to be looked at during sex more than anything… but instead he just hums thoughtfully, licking his lips. “Gioia~” the janitor hummed. “Ah- I’m… I’m so hard… p-please, just need you to take me, fuck me and make me into a goddamn mess… I’m so filthy- Gioia, please…”

“Fuck, you’re almost worse than me..” she lays her head on his shoulder for a moment, kissing and biting at his skin while she attempts to position herself inside of him. “And here I thought I was the easiest person here to get out of their panties… clearly I should’ve thought of men wearing women's panties..”

She grabbed his ass, finally managing to insert a small bit into him- she can’t imagine how comfortable he must be really, or if he is at all. She’d wanted to fuck with him, but she almost regretted it now. He was being so nice, so considerate.. a little bit whorish and easy, but still, he had a nice ass and he seemed willing to let her do all her dirty little fetishes to him.. perhaps she’d give him some special leway.

“You’re too tight,” she almost laughs again. Looking back into the chest, she quickly polishes herself off. Really, Gioia wondered how often the younger mafiaman does this thing.. fucking other members. Often, maybe.. Vita and Keon, maybe? Vita certainly was a filthy whore..she hit on her, and Carmine, and well, everyone.. twenty four seven.. Keon was a just a horny little bastard that tried to overcompensate. It annoyed her greatly, but.. well, she had some options to fuck if Akivya wasn’t here and Carmine was still being an asshole.

She pressed her lips against his ears again, tenderly letting herself melt into his back as she pressed herself into his asshole. “Tell me.. tell me when you want me to stop..”

He wondered briefly if he should even respond- the only things that he was able to push past his lips were soft moans, pleasured whimpers that he couldn’t prevent, not even when he sunk teeth into his lower lip as an attempt to keep quiet… to be fair, he hadn’t been expecting her to fucking peg him, but it was so good- to be stretched open and pushed into and bared for anyone to see…

He wonders if that’s a weird thought; if wanting to be so utterly exhibitionistic was uncommon; still, he can’t even count the number of places he’d enjoy fucking at- a park, a phone booth, a theater… there were so many good ideas.

Akivya can’t help from tensing up as he feels her press in just a little further- gritting teeth, he barely manages to hiss out, “G-Gioia- I-I need… agh… f-fuck… p-please.” That’s all he can force out, biting back another moan that comes out as more of an unsteady groan before she’s pulling back and he fucking shrieks as the strap-on is forced into him, his body arching forward in an attempt to move himself, only leading to a further ache in his body that makes him want to cry out in pain…

The consort’s leveled herself above him, so entirely hot that he’s surprised she’s actually here with him, fucking him and driving him so goddamn insane that he doesn’t even want to speak. Still, it’s not enough to keep him from stammering out “Y-yeah, like that- fuck! Gioia… I-I… so thick, sweetheart, oh God, I need- nn, want to… I need it harder, mistress, I can’t t-take- yes, yes… fuck me, fuck me until I forget how to say anything but your name, please, Gioia, please-!”

Gioia can barely stop herself from biting down onto his neck, sinking her teeth in until she can taste copper and the janitor is groaning for her to keep going, “fuck yes”. Maybe a bit too personal, but it’s perfectly okay for right then and she can’t help but wonder if the janitor is enjoying it more than her. She wonders if the Godfather would be into this, but.. she doesn’t think he would be.

She slides her fingers down her torso, in between her legs and moaned Akivya’s name in between sighs of pleasure as she tried to keep her steady pace, but found it almost impossible to do. Akivya’s body pushed against hers, unsteady and too quick for her to manage. “Aki-Aki-” she tries to scold him, but only manages to get his name out and is forced to swallow everything down because of one good thrust from the janitor.

The consort reached around his waist, gripping onto his cock and began stroking him off. The thought of someone coming in, seeing them both barely dressed and her pegging him… it made her feel so fucking hot; she wanted the Godfather to burst open the door, to see them fucking each other, to get jealous or angry.Something.

“Nnh- G-Gioia…” the janitor managed to spit out from between heavy breaths, long gutteral moans that burst from his throat like music… she was so good, thrusting herself into him, so close to where he needed it and yet so far off as he shifted and tried to arch back against her body. He fumbled to grab hold of her, fingers eventually teasing the bare skin of the consort’s thigh as he thrusted backwards, angling his legs even further open.

Since when had he been so into this? Well, to be fair, Akivya didn’t know if there was anything he wasn’t into, biting down on his lip as she took hold of his length again, thumbing the head that was smeared with precum and only succeeding to make him even harder. He didn’t know what he wanted more- to push inside her, make her feel every thrust and every inch of him- or to stay like this, with Gioia inside him, so hard and willing to-

“Fuck, m-mistress!” the exclamation slipped free when she thudded straight into the man’s g-spot, his entire vision going blankly white for a second as he moaned and tried to push himself back against her, all but squirming in the current position… “Please, mistress, I-I’ve been so dirty… I can’t… can’t handle myself, need you to p-put me in my place, Gioia, ugh- I… mmph, I’m such a s-slut…”

He’s barely concerned by the pitch his voice has risen to, instead opting to shift and writhe against the mattress, sweat sliding in rivulets from his forehead as he bucked and gasped and stammered out stupid words that he wasn’t even sure made sense- it… it wasn’t enough. He needed to be destroyed, needed to be humiliated, needed to beg and scream and plead like the disgusting little whore he was- Gioia didn’t see it, of course… she was so blind-

He lets out a sharp yell when the dildo thuds into his prostate again, tensing up as his walls tightened around her, practically preventing much movement at all. Akivya doesn’t bother acknowledging the whimpers or the short “aah-” that escape his throat at the position, taking it so fucking deep he was almost pleased with himself… he felt her hand fist in his hair, tugging it up until his neck was only further exposed, until he could let his mouth fall open as he hissed out, “M-mistress… you’re being so- nngh, so good to me… I’m so… filthy, I don’t d-deserve to be treated well… you’re so gorgeous, so… s-strong, mistress, I… aah, I’m j-just a slutty little bitch that doesn’t deserve to t-touch you…”

Gioia was barely able to pull herself out of him, slowly and trying to apologize with light kisses, nipping at his neck and sucking on whatever scrap of skin he has that isn’t bruised with bitemarks. “Ahh-,” she’s having a hard time controlling herself before she finally manages to make out what she’s trying to say- “F-fuck, Aki.. I-if someone told me about how much of a whore you were before, h-how easy it would be to get you moaning like a filthy slut… I definitely would’ve gotten you earlier..”

She pushes him flat against the bed, letting the strapon fall against the ground as she managed to take it off. Her thoughts went back over to Carmine- fuck, fuck, fuck. She had to stop thinking about him- she had to force herself to think of Akivya, even if all she can think about and crave is for Akivya to magically turn into Carmine and him just… fuck her, touch her until she was moaning his name and begging just like he is. But no.. Gioia, ever the pleaser, this was her job… maybe next time she can force Akivya to fuck her like this.. maybe, she hoped.

She leans back until she can feel his cock throbbing against her thigh, light and gentle thrusts from the janitor, her hair is resting on his chest. She lets him kiss her, and moans his name in his mouth and smiles as her hands pull at his hair. After several moments that end with her panting, she positions herself over the man, throwing a leg over his head.

He knows exactly what she wants, her thighs on either side of his head, enough that he can nuzzle his face against her thigh, press lips against the skin at the juncture of hip and leg, so close to where she must need it… Akivya looks up at her, a somewhat cocky smile passing his lips as he whispered, “Mistress, you’re so wet,” with just the barest hint of inflection as his fingers creep up the back of her leg, just barely teasing the skin. “But who’s wetter, Gioia? You or me?” As if to emphasize what he’s getting it, his flicks his tongue against the smooth skin, barely teasing it with his teeth.

“Nn, Gioia, you make me so hard, cuddlemuffin… you make me want to moan and gasp and squirm… I… I don’t think I can take anymore… need to taste you, baby, want you to fucking squirt on my face-”

Before the thought had even passed the janitor’s lips, the consort was pressing herself against his lips, so fucking warm that he was almost surprised, barely leaning up to push his tongue against her opening, looking up at her through half lidded eyes. He grips the back of her leg with one hand, before he’s arching forward and forcing his tongue into her, drawing a slick line against her clit before dipping it into her tight heat, almost shaking at the feeling of stickiness around his lips.

“Mmm…” he hums against her, pressing his face in further as he makes a tiny groan of amusement, and words that are something akin to “need more, baby, can’t- not enough” as he presses his tongue further into her core, flicking it around the inside of her walls and teasing the sensitive areas that she’s so carefully hidden from everyone.

He wonders how jealous Carmine would be if he knew how she was touching him… of how he was touching her. But then again, the ones with the power rarely get everything they want… it was so much better to just give in.

Gioia moaned out his name once again, digging her fingers into his scalp and practically trembling as the boy traced and flicked his tongue around inside of her. “A-Aki,” she couldn’t even force herself to say the rest of the sentence. Akivya, I’m close, please… faster- yes.It’s been way too long since the last time that she felt so hot and close. It’s been too long, way too long. Too fucking desperate for just.. one fucking good blow or fuck.

Maybe she’s been out of her game for awhile, or maybe it’s because Akivya is probably one of the best fucks next to Carmine, but she couldn’t help but try to keep extending more and more of her arm and torso until she’s half bent and sucking on his cock and he’s shivers underneath her. To her, it’s probably one of the hottest things she’s done in awhile.. One of the best, and she’s feeling the ever familiar cold shock going through her back just before she’s emptying herself inside of the man’s mouth.

Still, she continued sucking and twirling her tongue around his cock- moaning and thrusting her hips slightly so that the janitor’s hand is gripping her lower abdomen, fingernails digging into her skin in an attempt to hold her steady.

He couldn’t keep from bucking his hips upward into her mouth, a hand steady around the consort’s waist as he tries and keep her upright, although the task seemed to only grow more useless with the way her mouth surrounded him, slipping down until his shaft was almost engulfed, entirely too excited by the thought. His nails dug into her side, low moans escaping his mouth as he tried not to let himself get too fucking eager, because when was the last time someone had sucked his dick?

“F-fu- Gioia… I-I can’t… fuck… s-stop-” he attempts to say, a sudden red blush covering his cheeks (along with the sticky cum staining his cheeks and lips) as he arches forward, thrusts into the woman’s open mouth and releases, white spilling over from his cock- emptied but at the same time not at all.

It only seems to surprise her when she pulls away and he’s half hard again, the janitor almost impossibly embarrassed because yeah, that’s not something a lot of people know and fuck, I… yeah. Still, when she’s turning to face him and matching her dark eyes with his hazel ones, he can’t help gasping in again, thighs quivering as he pushes his hips up again, pulling her closer.

Gioia couldn’t control her breathing as she slides down his chest until she’s again cradling his cock. She attempted to switch positions with him, too tired to continue leading, but only sighs in annoyance once she realized that the janitor absolutely wasn’t going to give her an inch. Gentle thrusts continue to pound against her thighs, attempting to arch into her again as she settled herself. The look on his face was almost too perfect not to smile at, seeing him be so embarrassed honestly just turned her on way more than she’d expected it to.

“I can see why you’re rated so highly by Keon..” she laughs again, kissing his lips before throwing her head back and letting him grope her breasts. Her thoughts left the room for what seemed to be the thirtieth time just in the last few minutes.. Everything seemed different when she was fucking him- it wasn’t like when she fucked a customer, or when she was with Carmine.. it lacked the forced moans.. it lacked the romantic kisses and sweet promises.. but it felt perfect nonetheless.

The sound of the headboard hitting the walls forced her out of her thoughts, reminding her of the rather desperate moans and curses spluttering out of Akivya’s lips. It was cute.. how attached she’d grown to the man within.. what, an hour or two? It was stupid though.. if he was a customer and she’d be as attached to him then, she’d end up having to kill herself due to the shame. The only person she promised herself to grow attach to was Carmine.. and even then, she was breaking so many rules..

Rules always saved her, kept her safe from being killed by some obsessed cock. But she was always so fucking careless when it came to not being a consort anymore. If she had any dignity as of right now, she’d be ashamed of herself. She didn’t want to be though, not at fucking all. Maybe there was just this little bit of her that just said ‘fuck it. everyone else can do whatever the fuck they want to do. so can I” while the other part of her screamed at her to be better at keeping her god damn legs crossed and be more authoritative- more proper.

“Aki- fuck,” she moaned his name, noting that the man had quickened the pace faster than she could keep up with. “Fu-fuck, slow down..”

“Nn- G-Gioia, honey bun, I'm sorry- fuck. Fuck!” he cursed, feeling his legs begin to give out, trembling to a degree where he was surprised he could even keep them partway up. His hands smoothed along the consort's thighs, still too shaky for their own good as he threw his head back with a long, gratuitous moan, before he was unloading again, spilling over as he attempted to pull away- only to tense up and release even more.

“Sweetie- I'm s-s- ahh. Fuck me… nngh… don't say anything. It's been awhile… god, you're so soft, bunbun… mmph…” he barely managed to close his mouth as Gioia slipped off of him to lay down on the ruined bedsheets beside him, his hand reaching up to brush long hair behind one ear as he gazed into her eyes with a somewhat mischievous grin. “You're so pretty, Gioia… I can see why Carmine is so taken with you.”

He moves closer to her, until he can push his face into the crook of her neck and breathe in. She smells warm, like sugar and cinnamon- perfume, maybe. He raised his eyes to meet hers, letting a low hum pass his lips as he played with the ends of her long hair. “And for the record, snookums, you are not telling anyone about this… especially not about… this. Yes. Okay.” he paused. “Can I kiss you, bunbun?”

She only nods as a response, too tired to do anything else. Pulling into his chest, she laid her hand on his chest and leaned in until his breath mixed with hers, tongues embracing as they searched each other’s mouths. Sweat and the vile taste of cleaning products was the first thing she noticed once they parted and laid silently next to each other. Gioia’s hands found his, sweaty and slightly shaky, but even so, she managed to twirl her fingers around his.

Her body cuddled up to his body, letting one hand wrap around her shoulders and draw her closer to his body. It felt nice, being so close to someone else’s body.. different than what she was used to. Carmine never cuddled, he just went to sleep as soon as he came and never bothered to clean up afterwards.. the men never wanted to useless that was primarily what they had asked for- then they pushed her away and left. So when the janitor was kissing the top of her hair, and she was able to hear his breathing from her ear so close to his chest.. she gave him a smile, one reserved for special occasions like this.

He was almost surprised at how cuddly she was- not that it wasn’t cute. It totally was, although that was going off record. Though, as much as Akivya like to think of himself as a ‘nail and bail’ sort of person, there was something about lying here like this, kissing Gioia’s head and pulling her up against his chest, something about feeling the warmth of her body pressed against him and being able to hear her breathing, unsteady, exhausted, mingling with his.

“Soooo…” he started, trailing off, giving her a look and a somewhat soft smile before sticking his tongue out at her. “You’re gonna help me wash these sheets, aren’t you, cutie patootie?”


	3. klismaphilia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's always the recluse who's into crazy kinky shit and doesn't talk about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consigliere x Framer

Nanashi couldn't help giving a small chuckle when he finally looked up to see Anakin finally stripping out of his tight underwear and looking at him almost too desperately for any of this to be considered real. Eyes twinkled with desire almost impossibly high- shaking slightly as he slid down on the mat and whispered out something he didn't understand. He was always so quiet and unassuming- it was amusing finally being able to watch the man unravel in front of him.

 

"Anakin," he turned away from him, taking a cigar out from a hard case and lightning it. Taking a quick drag of it, he blew it out in front of the man. Anakin flinch, though didn't back up or try to wave the smoke away from him. He rolled his eyes.  _ Well, he's no fun. _ "C'mere. Let me prep you before we begin."

 

It was too surreal. And he couldn't say he'd imagined being in this position after he'd felt that hand on his thigh in the conference room, far too... close for his liking. Anakin kept to himself for a reason- because attachments were weakness and relationships were even more messy, things that grew darker and more gruesome the longer the road was traveled. 

 

Yet as much as his head was spinning, telling him how wrong it was to be getting involved in something like this... he'd brought it upon himself, really, barely noting to the other after an impossibly monotonous meeting that he'd been thinking... desiring something not to even be spoken of around... these people. Fools, perverted liars who... didn't really understand. How could they? There was a certain... charm, of how things were glossed over in his life. Even if he was twenty-nine years old, he'd never really wanted anything of depth.

 

So the framer doesn't know why he does it, stares at Nanashi with a raised eyebrow, a shiver running down his spine at the glare of the other's eyes. Even when the smoke drew so near to his face, when the consigliere gave him a relaxed smirk, he didn't pull away. He moved closer, barely able to hiss out a soft, "You've been waiting for this, haven't you? The two of us alone... forgotten, almost... I can't say I've felt any differently." He paused, looking down. "Is it wrong that I'm almost excited...?"

 

"Mmhm.." he hummed to himself, tapping his fingers against the top of Anakin's head, the smirk remaining. The man didn't seem to appreciate the gesture, pulling away from him a confused stare. It was cute. Almost endearing if he had to be honest. Something that he'd never think that Anakin could ever be- wasn't even close to being relative to the word 'cute'. The light eyed man was just full of surprises.

 

"I suppose.." he scratched the area behind Anakin's ear like he would a cat, forcing him to look back up at him. His eyes were as wide as ever, filled with curiosity and a small flicker of lust that faded and came back. He wondered how much fun he could have with the man tonight, or if he'd just be another dull toy like all his other previous lovers.  

 

"You're so young, Anakin.. a child compared to me almost.. is this even legal?" He moved down his neck and chest, flicking an erected nipple before pinching it roughly. "Fucking you would be shameful.. like doing a child. I briefly considered having you call me daddy, but that would feel inappropriate given how you look stark naked. Oh, dear. What a predicament.."

 

“Mm," the younger man hummed, leaning back and away from Nanashi, staring up at him with eyes that were too close to being amused. Sliding down on the mat until he was on his back, stretching out, he flicked a look to the older, before closing his eyes. Maybe this wasn't really worth his time... to think that he'd been so naive to believe this might be different... arousing. And here he was, being called a child- didn't his stature intimidate the consigliere? The glare he so often held?

 

Flicking his pierced tongue across a thin lip, he briefly managed to breathe out, "I'm no child, Nanashi. Rather the opposite." Smirking, as he turned his head away, he gazed at the thin hose beside his legs, giving a slight chuckle. "Are you going to fill me? Will you look at me like some twisted fantasy, imagine I'm your pregnant wife- something like that? Clearly you're a lonely man... not that I'm one to talk." He shifted, arching his back forward as he did so. Then, swallowing, he added softly, "You don't tell anybody about this... it never happened... correct?"

 

He fauxed a frown, taking another long drag of the cigar. "Don't be like that, sweetheart. I wanted to put it up on my blog."

 

A sharp glare is his only response before he rolled his eyes. The boy didn't seem to have any sense of humour. Shame. "Lighten up, it's no fun to have a partner that is all droll. Promise you'd have some more pleasure if ya did."

 

Kneeling beside him, he moved his hand forward to finger his flaccid cock. Anakin eyed him suspiciously, licking his lips before arching his hips forward in a soft moan. At least he was decently sized, making up for his rather diminished height, though absolutely no girth. He wouldn't be focusing on his cock size at least- their meeting would be entirely on filling the younger man.

 

"Tell me when you're ready," he finally said, taking a final inhale of the cigar before placing it in Anakin's mouth and brushing back stray pieces of hair from his face. "I don't like hearing moans so try to keep those to a minimum," he chuckled, not bothering to spare a glance at the boy's face. He'd be seeing his sexier reaction enough in just moments

 

_ Lighten up... _ Anakin thought to himself, unamused. He sent a light glare in the older man's direction, barely shifting his body so the consigliere had a full view of... well, whatever the fuck he wanted to see. As much as he wished there was a way to do this without removing all his clothes, he supposed he'd have to settle for the time being. Although that didn't help the situation any...

 

It wasn't often that he did things... like this with people he knew. Fuck, the anonymity was the part that mattered most- how had he gotten so careless as to be blatant with his kinks? Scowling, he turned his attention to the man's hands, fiddling with the end of the long tube, an eyebrow quirked appraisingly. He almost seemed... too happy. One of the things that the framer disliked the most- happiness wasn't his thing. If he was going to fuck someone, better for them to be controlled, unexpressive.

 

Biting down on the cigar in his mouth with a muffled groan, still staring at the other, barely blinking at the considering look he earned, he gave a sigh, too flustered to say anything else. Spreading his legs apart as much as he was willing, Anakin tilted his head back, shifting his hips to that his backside was bared to the older man. As humiliating as it was, there was something delicious about the motion... about knowing what was coming and being suspended in disbelief, anticipation... yes. It was... kinky. Despite how frustrating his partner was being... still, Anakin supposed talking could be sexy, later on.

 

Popping his thumb in his mouth, he coated in with a layer of saliva before forcing his thumb to tease the other's exposed entrance without a word. The look on Anakin's face- surprised and embarrassed- only made him chuckle again, leaning down to give him a quick teasing peck on his cheek, stretching his thumb around in his asshole. "Relax, kiddo. Just gotta stretch you out some. You've done this before, you shoulda expected this.. said I needed to prep ya too. Would you have prefered I put my cock in ya- might've loosened you up some more than my thumb could.."

 

The dark glare he receives makes him roll his eyes again, doing another when he hears him moaning and the slightest arching of hips for better access.  _ Boy needs a dick in him, not a hose _ , he can't help but think, chuckling at the sudden pale expression of the boy. His cheeks were pale, but as red as they could be. How he managed to be so cute in spite of his typical appearance was beyond him.

 

Pulling his thumb from the enclosing walls, he took the thinning cigar from Anakin's mouth and inhaled. He could only imagine how nice it would be to see the man unravel in front of him- who knows? Maybe he'd actually call him daddy. 

 

"Try not to moan too loud for me, Anakin," Nanashi flicked his tongue at him, blowing even more cigar smoke at him before returning the dark coloured cigar in his mouth. He'd need something to force him to stay quiet. Nanashi took the small, plastic hose between his fingers and turn on the machine.

 

He could already feel the way his face was heating, almost certain of the redness that must be spreading across his cheeks when he felt the aluminum nozzle slide between his thighs, pushing inside of his exposed asshole just enough to cause him to tense. Biting down on the cigar to conceal another moan, Anakin shifted impatiently, only to tense up with a groan when he felt the first bit of lukewarm water sliding into his body, spreading his legs even more, as if he wasn't sure he could take it. Even he didn't know why- Nanashi was right, he'd done this before, almost too much, and- fuck.

 

He couldn't keep himself from moaning, not when the pressure started to build up inside his body like some sort of inhumane heat, filling him from the inside out. Moving too much caused the cramps to get worse- but like this, with just the right amount of pressure... fuck, it was glorious. Almost enough that if his mouth were free, Anakin was sure he would be letting out sounds too erotic for his own ears, words that shouldn't be coming from his mouth. His hips pushed up, just ever so slightly, keening with his neck exposed as if practically begging for more. Fuck, he'd never say the words- not out loud- but he thinks the older man knows.

 

"Mmph- nngh..." he barely moans out from around the cigar, the swelling in his abdomen growing to a shocking cramp, one that made the framer damn near want to curl in on himself, pull away, but it was already too much and he could feel the way his flat stomach had expanded just slightly, could feel the water rolling about inside of him, the hose only churning more in. And it was  _ so goddamn embarrassing _ , but sexy in a way that nothing else came close to. And he didn't want to make himself look any more like a slut, but the feeling of the liquid inside his body, extending and pressing into all the corners of whatever actually mattered...  _ god _ , it was perfect.

 

Nanashi eyed the wiggling boy carefully,  moving to put his upper torso onto his thighs. Running a hand through his golden hair to comfort him, he began rubbing his temples gently. Anakin groaned against him, curling his toes wildly as he gripped the mat below him. He couldn't help chuckling at the sight once again, retrieving the all but forgotten cigar in his mouth and tossing it away after a long drag. It felt too good.

 

"We can take a break if ya need it," he moved his palms down, rubbing his ballooning stomach gently. As hot as it was watching Anakin writhing around in pain and pleasure, he knew he had to be gentle with the boy or otherwise he'd have to stop. Another shame. He prefered it when he could cause some pain, it always made him hard. Nanashi didn't think Anakin agreed with him.

 

"That's good for the first round, nonetheless," he said after Anakin didn't respond to him, unfazed at his sudden quietness. "That was barely a pint too, sweetheart, and you could barely take that. That's pathetic- cute but pathetic."

 

"F-f... ah... fuck you," Anakin barely managed to choke out, looking up to the older man with a glare that would've killed if he hadn't been in this position. His thighs were trembling, legs sliding apart further as he felt Nanashi's hands combing through his red-gold hair, still shaking from the previous few minutes. Every inch of his body felt weak, somehow, and yet... it wasn't nearly enough, wasn't enough to cause that feeling that he almost craved... but it was a hell of a lot more than a pint. "I-I know how much... nn... h-how much..." he practically choked on his words, throwing his head back again at the feeling of the water sloshing inside him, practically unable to keep himself still. The cramps in his hips kept growing, to a point where it was almost impossible to bear.

 

Sliding forward, he pushed his lips against the consigliere's, tightly and harsh, not leaving the other man room to breathe as he forced his tongue into his mouth, groaning at the taste of tobacco and mint. "I fucking... please, god, please- agh, I... I'm s-so... such a... fuck..." normally, the younger man would've cursed himself for sounding so... feeble, pathetic, useless... but all he really cared about was making it worse, continuing to escalate the feeling, and if Nanashi couldn't give him what he wanted, then he was fucking useless. Groaning, the man bucked his hips forward, just as he felt the other fiddling with the pump again, only allowing a sudden moan to leave the framer's barely parted lips again.  _ "Nanashi." _ he groaned, back spasming with a shudder.

 

"That's a good boy," Nanashi swallowed the taste of salt and vinegar that filled his mouth due to Anakin, turning the machine back on as he arched his hips to undo his pants buckle. He really wasn't a fan of moaning or talking when he wasn't completely hard yet, needed to set the mood so that he was. "Suck me off, kid, put your mouth to good use.. let's see what fills you up first." 

 

Forcing himself in the ginger's mouth, he let out a long moan when he finally felt the tip of his cock hitting the back of Anakin's throat and vibrations erupting from his throat, gagging. Nanashi frowned, scratching his head again. "Sh, Anakin.. take my cock, don't fight it. You look like the type that sucked a lot of cocks in high school to avoid getting beat up- just think of those days, huh?"

 

Anakin moaned, head slipping back until he could tease his tongue along the base of the other's shaft, take him further in. The moans he made as he continued to cramp up only seemed to vibrate through Nanashi's cock, causing him to let out a small noise of amusement as the older man’s hand fisted in his hair, tugging his head back. A part of Anakin wanted to laugh, sneer at him for the comment and show him how wrong he was, but lying on his back with a tube up his ass... wasn't exactly the best position for mocking others.

 

Letting his hands move up to smooth over the other's thighs, across darker skin than his and tiny scars he was sure had a story behind them, the framer moaned, dipping his head forward to take him even deeper, tears building in his eyes. He wasn't sure how swollen he was at this point, almost didn't want to know, but... fuck. Fuck, a part of him almost wanted the other man to keep talking, poke fun at and degrade him…

 

"Such a good boy," he pet his hair, moaning at each flick of his tongue curving around his cock. Nanashi wasn't sure how exactly the younger boy was able to take back his cock and the hose, gradually filling his stomach so now that he had quite a bit of a muffin top.. it was hot as fuck, but so confusing at the same time. He almost didn't want to question it- if he did, he worried his sexy fantasy would be completely over. All he could do was close his eyes and take it all in. Not too hard- seeing as one of Anakin's other good qualities was the fact that his deepthroating abilities were top notch. "You should see yourself, Anakin.. the sight of you sucking on my cock, getting filled, stomach enlarging by the second.. Could only imagine how Jaina, our lovely blackmailer, would react if she ever saw something like this.. Mmhm, turns me on honestly."

 

He slid a hand down to rub against his stomach, chuckling at how large and swollen he had already managed to get so quickly. He looked farther along than Gioia did- which was saying something. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to his naval. "Mmph, Anakin.. you're so big already- don't even think I got halfway to a liter yet. Be a good boy and let your daddy come in ya mouth, kay?"

 

The thought of anyone seeing this- seeing how much he was getting off to it, the feeling of being filled so thoroughly, water continually being pumped inside of him, so distended as he sucked on the consigliere's cock, pulling it deep into his mouth and moaning- made a shiver run through Anakin's body, the young man shutting his eyes briefly. It was already so... so humiliating, but so much, and _ why don't I want to stop, why can't I, why is it so good... _ kept running through his mind, practically on repeat. Letting his tongue curl around the tip of Nanashi's cock, throat practically choking on how deep he was, the framer was still barely prepared for it when cum shot into his mouth, down his throat, forcing him to swallow and gag on a half-moan threatening to leave.

 

He wanted to curse- there were so many things he wanted to say, really- but if Anakin had learned anything in the past few years of doing this is was that not talking during sex was the better option. Still, he can't keep the words from building in his voicebox, rolling over his tongue as they tried to spill from his lips, a long moan blending with it as he finally let them slip free, trying to remember what Akivya had said when they'd done this, how to talk so... filthily, so submissively. "N-Nanashi, I... ah- do I... do I look pretty like t-this? U-underneath you, all spread out and f-full, cum dripping down my lips... s-such a cheap whore f-for you, but so... so goddamn g-good at it. D-do you... c-can you imagine me looking like this? I-imagine if I were a woman... pregnant. W-would you kiss my stomach like people do Gioia's? Fuck, I'd be- s-so much prettier than her. B-better than everyone, even like this... fuck..."

 

"Mmhm.. you sound like Akivya, best not take lessons from him when it comes to sex, sweetheart. Kid'll give ya an STD." Nanashi rolled his eyes, unamused. He really wasn't interested in hearing some 'am I pretty?" type of sexy talk that was rather popular with the feminine man, so coming from Anakin's mouth just made it worse. Closing his eyes, he whispered, "Anakin.. are you a virgin in the traditional sense?"

 

Feeling the sudden lack of water, his body still shaking, stomach extended so far he hadn't thought it possible, Anakin shivered roughly, wishing he could pull away without causing even more discomfort. For some reason... for some reason it hurt more than usual. The cramps were running down his spine, building in his hips, enough that he couldn't help crying out. And even worse was... how the fuck was he supposed to answer that? He was twenty-nine... did the older man expect him not to have lost his virginity yet? If he was in any other position, at any other time, he would've scoffed, shoved him off without a word, but it felt almost... insulting, yet entirely too surreal to deny. Fuck, could he... what would happen if he said he was?

 

Squirming against the mat lying on the floor, he barely took note of what the consigliere was doing until he was on top of him, hands sliding onto his as the younger's figure shivered, pulling away and turning his head to the side with a quiet moan. "F-fuck... m-maybe you should... teach me how to talk properly," he finally gasped out, rolling his hips against Nanashi's without a second thought, eyes clenched shut.  "V-virgin-" he gasped out, too hot to do any more than mumble out half words, moans, pushing himself against the other man too desperately for his liking. "D-daddy... fuck, I... w-want your fucking cock. Hurts so goddamn bad, I s-swear I'd beat your ass, I-if I wasn't..."

 

"Mmhm," he pressed another kiss to his forehead, smirking in response. The boy was so thin, he doubted that he could ever truly taken him in a fight.. he had a good sixty pounds on him at least. If it came down to anything, Nanashi knew for a fact that he could beat him with his bare hands. "The only thing you could truly beat me at is in sucking cocks.. unfortunately, there is a chance that I could beat you in that given some time."

 

"Still.. I'm very impressed with how quick you are with flipping between weak, bitchy dirty talk and stronger, sexier kinds. Very hot, indeed.." he caressed his  hair again, giving a breathless sigh as he ran a hand over his imposing stomach. "It makes up for some of your less sexy.. appearances, I could say."

 

His fingers made their way to wrap around his cock, gently tugging on his cock. Anakin moaned underneath him, hands clawing at the mattress once more. This session was so hot- he was almost proud to have actually arranged it. Anakin would be thanking him one day, he knew he would.

 

"Are you up for a round three, Anakin?" He asked, grabbing a washcloth to walk off the water that had managed to escape from the tip of his cock. "Jerkin' you off should help with the swelling, I think.."

 

Giving a light moan, Anakin attempted the best he could to push Nanashi away, wrapping an arm around his bloated stomach in almost-shame. Fuck, the cramps were so bad- so much worse than they’d been in a long time, thick and harsh spasms that clawed their way through his back and abdomen like a bullet being shot through skin.

 

He already felt so heavy, filled to the brim with liquids that only made him want to collapse. Pushing himself so he was sitting up, at least somewhat, and leaning back to support his weight on his hands, the framer met the older man’s eyes with an unamused sigh. “I’m sure my skills in many things are far superior to yours. Don’t get cocky just because you filled me with some water-”

 

Then a hand was resting on his stomach and sliding down to grasp hold of his cock, Anakin biting down on his lip as he felt the other give a rough stroke, fingers greedily tugging at his shaft until he could see more water building at the tip of it, halfway to spilling over completely. “I-I need…” he swallowed, trying to cover up the desperation in his voice with monotony as he gasped out, “Need you to fucking jerk me. God, I’m gonna… fuckin’ spill everywhere.”

 

Nanashi grabbed the hand towel again, covering it over Anakin's soaked cock before he started stroking again. Even if it would be hot to have the framer's lower torso covered in hot cum and water, that would only end up making a mess. And Nanashi was very against there ever being a mess when it came to his sessions. Cleanliness was a must, always. 

 

"You're about at two liters," he noted, repositioning so that Anakin's head wasn't pressing down on his still-erected cock anymore. He still felt so fucking horny, wasn't sure why- had already come, he should be exhausted like all his other usual sessions. "We're gonna take a break- you gotta be cramping."

 

His hand briefly broke from stroking Anakin's soaked cock to switch off the machine, ignoring the desperate moans that came from the ginger. The fact that he sounded so desperate made him give a soft chuckle.. it was hot knowing he was wanted so much by the younger man, if he had to be honest with himself. He considered teasing him over for it - wanting someone like him. It almost sounded like a joke. Something Vita and Jaina would play for shits and giggles. But, in all brutal honesty, it felt nice being wanted so much by someone really. He knew it wasn't because of physical attraction, purely sexual, but he could pretend, couldn’t he?

 

Unable to keep himself from moaning, Anakin shifted just enough that he could look up at the consigliere, uncertain of how red his face must be at this point, legs shaking from the sheer pressure. He could feel it building in his abdomen, an intense pool of water, so desperate to spill out and yet completely unable to, reaching out for the older man again as if it could somehow help him. Barely pushing his hips up, he could feel a slight bit of water leaking from the tip of his cock, down the back of his legs from his ass, and it was enough that he lost focus on all rational thought. It was so goddamn strange, to be wanted like this, have a partner that he knew who was willing to… participate in his kinks. Made him feel so filthy, but not in a bad way…

 

It was almost painful, the more he tried to move, stretching out his legs that were held in place over the ground as he attempted to sit up. Whines threatened to escape his mouth, tears pooling in his eyes like he was gonna cry from the pressure of it all… god, he felt so weak. Used and exhausted, unable to keep himself together… barely looking at Nanashi, Anakin arched forward at the feeling of more water spilling out, barely able to force out a breathy sigh of the other’s name. It was almost intense, too much to just handle calmly… fuck, it hurt, but… the relief was so goddamn good that he just needed more, needed to feel it all spilling out of him, just wanted...

 

Anakin looked so delightfully pained, moaning against his thighs, his name playing on his lips in utter pleasure. Nanashi couldn't help leaning down, dipping down to capture his lips into his and smirk at the shiver that obviously runs up and down the boy's body. He wondered how into this he was- if Anakin was enjoying himself just as much, or was just into it for the orgasm he was attempting to have. Either way, he liked both of them a bit more than he should have. At least he was able to come in Anakin's mouth- got a cigar out of it too.    
  
"Fuck.. I think I filled you up too much." He cursed himself, leaning down to pluck out the hose and set it aside. He's filled people a thousand times.. never before has he filled someone so much that they were overflowing- that's such a rookie mistake. He was fucking Nanashi Ruiz- he didn't make mistakes.    
  
His fingers pulled over to curl over Anakin's entrance, teasing the small hose. He had to find a way to empty him somehow- cumming usually worked  anyhow. Sliding his finger in, releasing a hearty moan from the ginger haired man, he continued to scratch his hair with his free hand. The man was so tight, even when he was filled with so much water- walls enclosing around his finger, body trying so hard to force out the intruder. It only made him laugh, slipping in a second one with a kiss to the younger's thin lips.   
  
"You know.. if you don't wanna be finger fucked, sweetheart- you could come."

 

Letting a low pitched groan escape his lips, he shifted as he pushed his body against the older man’s hand, eyes slipping shut as he bucked his hips, spreading his legs for better access. God, it was so wrong- enjoying the way fingers slid inside him, curling and pushing until a long whine escaped his mouth...   
  
Before he could help himself he was bucking, twisting against the mat, eyes flying open, wide as he stared up at Nanashi with flushed cheeks. Then it was spilling everywhere- long, slick trails of water and cum, sliding down his thighs as the pressure in his stomach subsided. Fuck, it was better than he remembered- long and extensive with such a relief at the easing of cramps, thighs trembling, head lolling to the side. He almost didn't want it to stop- the fingers and the water sliding out of his body, leaving him a quivering mess…

 

Nanashi gave a breathless sigh, letting his hand drop to drape around Anakin's thin shoulders. He couldn't remember the last time he saw someone look as out of it as the younger man did, breathing so harshly he thought he was going to end up passing out from lack of oxygen. His fingers finally slipped out of the other's tight hole, wiping water and his hot cum on his stomach before sliding it into his mouth. Flicking his tongue around his damp finger, he chuckled. Boy tasted nice at least- better than what he expected.   
  
"Anakin, you want one?" He nudged his shoulder lightly with his foot, getting up to move over to grab his packet of cigarettes and take one out. Lighting it, he played around with it in between his fingers, taking a deep breath. A cigarette would feel amazing right about now.

 

Everything was spinning. God, it all felt so distant... like a fantasy, the way his head was suddenly so light and he could hardly breathe... he barely even noticed the other's words, so out of it as he stretched out, rolling onto one side. There was a hand on his back, rough fingers passing over his light skin until the framer gave another feathery moan.   
  
"Fuckin' hell," the younger man finally cursed, pulling himself to his feet shakily, almost feeling as though he were about to collapse. It was so unsteady, unfocused... but he still nodded, giving a rather muted glare to Nanashi. "Yeah. Pass me one of those." He breathed out, almost hissing. "This doesn't change anything, you know. No hugs or kisses or sappy bullshit. Yeah?"

 

"Fine with me, kid," Nanashi shrug his shoulders, leaning against the wall as he let Anakin reach forward to take one from his mouth. Immediately, he felt tired. All he really wanted to do is sleep now, which he compromised to do after he got to finish a cigarette or two. No reason not to relax for a little bit, rushing would only prove to make him even more tired. "Don't fall in love with me, yeah?"

 

Sighing exasperatedly, Anakin rolled his eyes at the older man, quirking a brow before sighing, loudly. It really wasn't worth getting upset about, regardless of how asinine the question was. "Love is for morons," he finally said, turning away as he took a long drag off the cigarette. "Fuckin exhausted. You got a bed in this shithole?"

 

Nanashi chuckled once more, taking the cigarette from the other's mouth and slide it back into his. Inhaling a final time before getting up, Nanashi began picking up the hose, nozzle and the machine attached to it. No real use to sticking around right now. "Yeah," he said, cigarette sticking out of his mouth teasingly. "At your house."

 

"If you think I'm walking back to my place looking like this," the framer gestured to his still bloated stomach, the water half leaking down his legs, lips red and swollen, "you're mistaken." He gave an amused smirk, slapping the other's arm lightly before grimacing once more. "You're such a dick. Could've gone a little easier with me. Though I can't complain... not often I find someone who's into the same... things as I am."

 

"That's your problem," he gave him a teasing sad look, rubbing his eyes in an exaggerated manner. The look he received, unamused and hurt, only made him roll his eyes. "Should've brought a coat to cover yourself up. Consider this a lesson."   
  
And with that, he shut the bathroom door behind him and left the building in a hurry. He looked forward to seeing him later on tonight in the meeting.

 

* * *

  
  
She was already offended. And it was practically a new record, having only been here for a decent ten minutes, kicking her legs up on Vita's lap underneath the table, hand running through her messy black hair with a groan as Julian continued to drone on. Couldn't he make it worth their while? Talk about something interesting?    
  
"Not that any of you actually brought something worthwhile to this meeting-"   
  
"Actually, sir," Jaina cut in, lips sliding into a smirk. "I found something very intriguing today. Did you know that Anakin and the consig are klismaphiles?" She smirked, winking to the flustered framer sitting at the other end of the table. His face was monotonous as ever, aside from the red blush creeping up his cheeks. "The two most reclusive members... I guess it's not really a surprise."

 


	4. tramp stamps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all began with the disguiser getting a wee bit horny and sending the framer a dick pic.
> 
> //
> 
> "hey."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disguiser x framer

One of the first things that came to the framer’s mind when he thought of Keon was ‘perfect'. It was true, really- sexy, caring, good at his job, interesting, creative… but _adjectives don't really describe a person the way you want them to,_ he’d learned. No, Keon was… different. Nicer, somehow, and… fuck, Anakin couldn't put a name on it. He couldn't even tell him about his thoughts without looking like an utter moron.

 

Of course, the thoughts about Keon weren't pestering, not even after he'd seen that goddamn video Jaina forced on everyone in the meeting the other day. _And fuck if I'm ever living that down,_ the man noted, shutting his eyes and rubbing his temple as he flicked off the music blaring through his headphones. These meetings, people… all of it was so fucking stupid. Well, aside from a few things… like the way Nanashi kept sending him heated glances. An added effect of the ‘friends with benefits’ relationship they'd struck up.

 

Yet for some reason, Anakin kept thinking about Keon. Fucking _Keon,_ who hadn't even judged him after his kink was made public. It was enough that he almost- almost- smiled, nudging the other's shoulder briefly. “Bored?” he asked briefly before adding, “Wanna get away for awhile? Meeting’s over in five.”

 

The other stared at him for a few moments, skeptically. Not that Anakin blamed him- he’d never been the ‘friendly’ type, not really, preferring to keep everything and anything to himself. Away from prying eyes and the mistakes of society, he liked to think- relationships were too much trouble, barely worth keeping up with, and least of all when they carried something of such magnitude as… feelings.

 

No, feelings weren’t worth it. Attachment was just… abnormal.

 

He shakes his head at the confused disguiser, sucking in a breath as he pulls up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing the semi-offensive tattoos staining his arms, before giving a glance over to Nanashi. The consigliere shook his head, turning away from him, while Keon continued to watch him curiously. Anakin barely scoffed, not saying anything, before he was turning to the door and walking away from the meeting without a look back.

Keon watched him leave, unsure of he should follow him or not. He briefly wondered if he heard him correctly or not. He was talking to him, he knew that.. but it just felt so out of the blue. They'd spoken maybe twice in the entire four years that the blonde had been here.. maybe heard him speak about four times- they weren't even on speak terms so it confused him why he'd even want to hangout with him. Keon didn't even know if he hung out with anyone here - minus Nanashi - or if he had friends actually. Never saw anyone coming out of his room, or him talk to anyone.. as far as he knew, he was all alone.

 

After a moment, he followed behind the man quietly. Maybe he was kidding about wanting to hang out with him after the meeting.. it didn't matter- maybe he could persuade him to do so.

 

“Anakin.. wait,” he grabbed the man’s small shoulder.

 

The older of the two gave a startled sigh, barely able to contain the surprise at the sudden and rather abrupt feeling of someone… touching him. It felt… weird. Not unpleasant, particularly, but… strange. Obviously, it wasn’t Nanashi- they were too light, too gentle for that, and if it had been the consigliere, the two of them would’ve been halfway to a wrestling match by this point.

 

It’s even more strange to turn around, a glare on his face, mouth twitching into a not-so-nice smile, and be greeted with Keon standing there, staring down at him slightly confused. For a few seconds, the framer’s mind blanks- unclear, with not a single notion of what a ‘proper’ response would be to this. Crossing arms across his chest, he looks over the younger with a frown and a raised eyebrow, almost appraising.

 

“I’ve changed my mind.” He replied, bluntly, pulling away from Keon enough that there wasn’t even a question of whether he’d come closer or not. “I don’t know what I was thinking. See you around.” It’s blunt, to the point, and oddly… hurtful. Even for him. Much to Anakin’s dismay, the sight of Keon’s face dropping just slightly, stance changing completely from the openness of before only adds to the growing pain in his gut. Frowning, the framer pulled out a purple pen from the pocket of his tattered jeans, looking over to Keon before walking toward him quickly. Giving a (forced) smile, Anakin pulled the disguiser’s hand up until he could see how… smooth the pale skin looked, quickly jotting a few numbers down on the top of it.

 

“You can call me.” Anakin states, a blank expression on his face. “If I feel like it, I’ll answer.”

 

And then he turned on his heel and walked away.

 

Well.. that was certainty awkward.

 

Keon looked down at his hand ‘tattoo’, trying to make sense of what happened. He was definitely a weird one, wasn't he? Not that it mattered much to him- fuck, he was married to a satyriasiss crossdresser. He wasn't strangers to being with or knowing those who are typically considered strange. Fuck- there was always a chance he was cool, a bit of an asshole, but cool. He certainly had the possible look of being cool, what with his tattoos and piercings. Keon was typically a huge fan of that look- fuck, even considered getting a few more piercings and a tattoo himself, but his job forced him into giving up those dreams. Tattoos would reveal him if he was in disguise and so would piercing holes- thankfully, the mafia had no idea about his nipple piercings nor his Prince Albert one.

 

Licking his lips, he took out his phone and started to type in his number. He briefly wondered how their relationship would turn out- sexual or strictly platonic.. it could easily go either way. It'd be nice to have a friend in here that wasn't only talking to him for sex. Something different for a change.

* * *

 

 

It was later on in the evening when Keon finally remembered to text Anakin- not that he forgot, more or less just held off on doing it until he felt comfortable messaging him for anything. He barely knew anything about the older man, so it was natural for him to feel quite a bit awkward about texting him.

 

When he finally got the nerve to say anything, he didn't even say anything, deciding to be a bit risky about it. The thought of Anakin not wanting him for sex sounded weird.. of course he wanted him. That's all they ever thought of him as-  a sex toy.

 

Undoing his buckle, he slid his boxers down to underneath his cock and stroked it gently until he was completely erected. Taking his phone off of the table, he brought up Anakin’s contact and took a picture of his cock, making the caption a cheeky _hey._

* * *

 

He didn’t know what time it was when he heard his phone vibrate, lost somewhere in the darkness of the chaotic room. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do- answer it, or roll back onto his side and try to sleep. Not that sleep was ever an easy feat these days- pretty much every passing thought had something to do with… rather unpleasant thoughts or risky fantasies. It was enough that he’d actually spoken to someone- too much, really.

 

Which is what made the buzz of his phone so impossibly strange- only two people had his number, Nanashi and… Keon. And fuckin’ hell if he’d been expecting Keon to text him back- the disguiser clearly wouldn’t want anything to do with him. He looked like fucking white trash, was more reclusive than J.D. Salinger and more socially inept than… well, something that was really socially inept. It didn’t make sense- not even when he thought about it.

 

And yet for some reason when he flipped open the phone and saw the text from an unknown number, he thought he was going to cry. Like a goddamn girl before prom. It felt wrong, somehow- to be putting so much effort into this and- _was that his fucking dick._

 

 _Keon sent me dick pics._ That was the only thing he could even remotely think of, and it was a far worse thought than it probably should’ve been. Anakin could practically feel his cheeks flushing, utterly confused on what he was supposed to do. Was this… normal? Did Keon do this often? What- why would he even do that? They’d barely talked. It just wasn’t… or maybe it was something you did. The framer had always been a bit out of the loop in terms of going ons in society…

 

Barely able to look at his phone, he briefly managed to type out a short _Was that supposed to do something? I already know what you look like, didn’t need to see your little-_

 

Fuck.

 

He backspaced the message, trying again with a _Keon? Are you trying to be funny?_

 

And then backspaced it again. What was even appropriate to say in a situation like this? Something simple, respectful, acknowledging, right…?

 

_…_

 

_Nice cock._

* * *

 

Keon chuckled at his response, moving a hand down against to cup his erected cock and stroke it until he can feel euphoria flowing down his head until he can curl his toes and throw his head back. He had to be honest, Anakin had a nice response. Almost too humorous for him to actually believe.. he briefly wondered if the man had decided to just fuck with him now. Even then, he didn’t really care- what could he really do? Blackmail him? Half of the mafia have somehow managed to see his cock, whether by him or by a pair of lesbian lovers..

 

Honestly, the thought of him trying to blackmail him was sorta hot- insulting a bit, but hot enough that he was able to ignore that. He wasn’t even sure _what_ he would try and blackmail him into- sex, drugs, money? There were too many options and since he didn’t really know that much about him, there could be a chance that he didn’t even want anything yet- just liked the idea of having something over him. That certainly would be interesting.

 

_thanks. would look better in ur mouth._

 

Biting down on his lip, he considered sending another message- something else. Maybe ‘lol just kidding whats up?’ or ‘so. tell me about yourself’. Something casual and easy to break the ice, because clearly his cock pic might’ve made the situation a bit awkward. Maybe he should’ve called him instead. Still, the fact that he actually messaged him back. complimented him.. it only spelled good things for their budding relationship.

 

_can i get a pic? ;)_

* * *

 

He couldn’t tell if the other man was joking- if he was pranking him or trying to make fun of… of whatever this situation was. It felt weird, completely and totally uncomfortable, half sitting on his bed with his phone in his hand, listening to Keon talk about… sex? That was what he was talking about, right? He wanted… ‘pics’ too.

 

 _Should I even do that?_ Anakin thought, feeling a bit uneasy with the entire situation. Maybe he’d done worse things, but not… not like this, over a little bright screen in a dark room, with someone he barely knew that he may or may not like in some way. Still, he tried to swallow down the feelings of discomfort, pushing them aside as he waiting for another text… there was nothing.

 

Hesitantly, he managed to reply, _What kind of pic?_

 

He wonders if that reads too nervously- if he just fucked up the entire situation because he didn’t understand it and had no clue what Keon was looking for. Fuck, maybe he just wanted to get to know the guy better… he was one of the only tolerable mafia members at this point, and just… he didn’t fuck this up, did he?

 

The framer swallows, nervously, before adding. _…not really sure what you’re doing right now. Should we call?_

* * *

 

He’d come to understand that Anakin was most likely terrified and for some odd reason, it completely turned him on.

 

The inept, somewhat naive person he was talking to right now was completely different than the usual moody, grumpy asshole- not that he minded, it was honestly really cute. If he could see this person everyday, he really wouldn’t mind it. It felt wrong for a moment- because there was a chance that he was taking advantage of him, someone who was actually naive and innocent enough, but he tried to ignore this feeling. There were lots of people just like this- Akivya and Vita for example, neither of them were quick in figuring out sexual things unless it was stated right out. Perhaps that’s why he liked him so much- he reminded him so much of the two most important figures in his life.

 

_sure. not good on call though- prefer texting tbh with u._

 

He clicked his tongue between his teeth, anxiously tapping on his phone before sighing. He didn’t even know if he actually wanted to call him- he really didn’t like calling people on his phone, never called Akivya honestly. If he didn’t call his own lover, why would he ever want to call someone he barely knew?

 

* * *

 

He didn’t know what he was supposed to think. Not calling- yeah, that was fine. He barely talked anyway, and it wasn’t like he _wanted_ to talk to Keon or anything, hear his voice or… think too much about it. Fuck, all the thoughts were jumbled up now, like fragments of a story that he can’t piece together. It’s almost infuriating. Infuriating enough that he barely blinks when he texts out, _Mind giving me a hint on what your fucking intentions are? Other than sex, which is obvious._

 

He regrets it the second he hits send. It was too harsh, really- too harsh for someone who clearly just wanted to joke around and talk about… whatever the fuck this was with him, and yet almost not enough to even convey what the man was feeling at the given moment. Sucking in a deep breath, Anakin fumbled for his glasses on the bedside table, barely managing to push them up onto his face. Contacts at night were so much of a hassle it really wasn’t worth it.

 

 _Sorry,_ he adds a second later. _I’m just not very social. Like this, or whatever._

 

He trails off, bites his lip, contemplating adding more…

 

_It’s just completely strange to me. Never talked like this on text before. Or… with anyone but Nashi. You know?_

* * *

 

_meh, dont worry about it, man. not too big of a deal, idc at least. lol i just wanted, ya know, talk? thought a pic would loosen you up some. seems to have failed. sorry if i made you uncomfortable, yeh._

 

Keon sighed, tossing his phone over the bed and rolled over to his side. As much as he wanted to continue talking, he felt tired now. He briefly wondered if Akivya was up and willing to suck him off because fucking himself earlier didn’t seem to do him any good. And then remembered that he was still off taking care of the heavily pregnant consort- which only made him frowned. Why exactly he decided to take care of her all day in night was beyond him - even if he found it oddly sweet - he was upset that he couldn’t even fuck his husband when he was so fucking horny right now.

 

He sighed, rubbing his eyes with a yawn. Keon doubted that he would even be able to fuck Akivya at this rate.. he was too tired to really do anything but turn over and sleep. His phone rang twice- vibrating against his soft duvet. Sighing once more, he lazily stared down at his phone, briefly wondering if it would really do any harm if he just read it in the morning instead of doing so right now. Keon doubted that it was really anything important..

 

* * *

 

Anakin almost wanted to laugh. The fact that he was sitting here right now, doing this, something that by all standards was completely out of the realm of his normal behavior, was completely unbelievable. He wouldn’t believe it if he wasn’t still staring at the last message on his messenger, something that seemed oddly like… an apology? Did Keon really feel like he had to apologize for something that he probably had less to do with than Anakin himself? Fuck, it was his fault he couldn’t take a goddamn joke or casual flirt as anything but serious.

 

_No, you’re fine. Shitty move on my part. Shouldn’t have gotten so upset._

 

He raised an eyebrow, glancing over to the clock mounted on the wall, barely visible in the dim lighting of the moon through the curtains of his tiny window. Sighing, he leaned back on his bed, kicking feet up and staring down at his phone for a few brief seconds before something clicked. Something that was… quite possibly the most foolish thing he’d ever done in his life, but quite possibly… worth it? The framer really wasn’t sure what qualified as being ‘worth it’ at this point…

 

Maybe Keon would enjoy it. There wasn’t any real harm in trying.

 

_You want me to suck you? What else would you do with me?_

* * *

 

Keon chuckled in amusement, running a hand through his thick, blonde hair. He seemed to have ruined the boy now- made him go from shy and naive, to a bit horny and bold in just seconds. Not that he was complaining- no, he found this rather hot. Sexting was one of his favourite things to do, tie that up with dirty talk and.. and well, he’d have something he was good at doing forever. Maybe Anakin wasn’t too bad at this- he didn’t seem like he’d be bad at this, at least. An amateur, sure, but not nervous.

 

_let’s not get ahead of ourselves here, sweetheart._

 

Thinking of another response quickly, Keon stripped himself of his tight muscle shirt and snapped a picture of his face and chest. Maybe he could have some fun before he went to sleep.. would be interesting to see how far he was willing to go with this. If he retreated back into his shell or not- which would be a huge shame because Keon had decided that he really wasn’t half that bad. Needed to work on his social skills, but otherwise not bad at all.

 

_;0 would be more fun if you were here though tbh. akis is with gioia and so now i have no one to play with rn._

 

Taking another moment to say anything else, he couldn’t help but wonder how red the man was right now. He looked so impossibly red early today and during the meeting a few days ago when his fetish was revealed.. actively getting sexts probably made him turn even redder. He was curious, almost aroused, by the thought of what he looked like right now.

 

_can i get a pic of you, anakin? i’ll make it worth your while later on. ;)_

* * *

 

He bit his lip- hard, hard enough to draw fucking blood, entirely sure that he was red at the other’s words. _Worth my while?_ He thought to himself, slightly amused. _You can’t actually be thinking about sending him a picture._

 

Groaning, Anakin barely managed to get the phone into picture taking mode. He wasn’t even sure how he looked right now- a total mess, with red hair all tangled and wearing glasses, a shirt that was probably filthier than it should be thrown on… best to strip that. Keon would probably like to see his chest, right? Not that he didn’t have a few less-pleasing tattoos around the side of his waist and lower back, but… fuck, nobody cared about stupid things like that. It was his body, after all.

 

Snapping the picture, with his best attempt at a smile (it failed- miserably. More than anything, he seemed even more monotone, a stoic expression covering his face that he didn’t think could be removed) he frowned when he saw the dim image on his phone. The lips of his corners were quirked upward at least a bit… or, well, he thought they were. Almost didn’t look too bad, but… still worse than he would’ve on a day to day basis.

 

 _You better be serious. I don’t take pictures for just anyone._ He typed back quickly, wondering if he was supposed to use an emoji for anything to make it less… serious. More joking… he settled on a _:)_ that seemed out of place, but was nice enough. It was Keon- he didn’t give a shit.

* * *

 

He didn't look bad naked to say the least.  


Sure, could stand to weigh a little more, stand in the sunlight, and maybe cover up a tattoo that covered the majority of his torso. But otherwise, kid was hot as fuck. Glasses made his eyes shine a bit brighter than he’s ever actually seen- he looked a lot better with them on than them off. He wondered what else he was keeping from him. (He wanted to pretend he didn’t sound insanely creepy now.)  
  
_mmmhm, very sexy. :* nice glasses._   
  
He rolled over on his stomach, placing his head down on the pillow and shut his eyes. Keon really didn’t have a lot of energy left to talk to him, was too tired and just wanted to turn over and go to sleep. Anakin would understand, fuck, he was probably tired himself. Was he only talking to him because Keon had kept him up- fuck, there was a chance he was, wasn’t he? If Anakin was, that’d only make him feel like more shit for doing this.

 

_im gonna go to bed. can i get another, preferably lower waisted, pic? <3 gn _

* * *

  


So that was it, then. He propositioned him for sex and then said good night? Was that even normal? Anakin couldn’t decide if Keon was fucking with him- or actually wanted to fuck with him. It was almost too confusing, but… did he really just say I was sexy?

 

Rolling his eyes and running a hand through his messy hair, the framer slumped back down on the bed, rolling onto his sighed with an annoyed groan. Fuck if this had even happened- he didn’t just do these sorts of things. Even if he liked to think Keon was interested (oh, he is definitely interested) or actually enjoyed talking with the guy just a smidge, it wasn’t… natural. And he couldn’t… do that again, really. It was fun, in a juvenile and amusing way, but… Keon was obviously fucking with him.

 

Or is he? Trying to ignore the little argument that had cropped up in his head, Anakin turned over until he had a view of his phone once again… and no more texts. Nothing. So he really had gone to bed? That was it, just like this?

 

He doesn’t know why he reaches for the small object anyone, clicks it on again and types out a quick _Good night._ either. To hell with it, maybe? Keon had taken the time to talk to him… he seemed… genuine even if they’d basically been sexting for the past thirty minutes.

 

Without any thought or consideration, the ginger has no idea why he adds in, _Maybe in the morning I’ll show you my tramp stamp. You know, if you’re good._

 

Sexy enough? Regardless, it was… more than he’d ever been open to before. Maybe… maybe if Keon really was interested… he’d reply as soon as he got up, or ask him questions, or… maybe this could work. Right?

 

_Don’t waste your breath on it. Relationships are messy and stupid. You shouldn’t have bothered._

* * *

 

Keon had too much trouble keeping still- halfway getting up from his seat and switching his seating style every few moments. He wasn’t sure why exactly he was so antsy right now. There wasn’t anything that would cause him to feel like this, so he was confused on why he felt like leaving the meeting early and going to do something. He just felt so restless.

 

Attempting to keep his mind off of it, he looked up and tried to find Akivya’s eye. When he did, he felt his shoulder’s drop sharply. The older man’s eyes were caught intensely on Gioia’s large stomach, dark purple bags underneath his eyes. Fuck. His own husband was still too focused on staring at the woman, most likely wasn’t even giving him a second thought on how he was doing or if he even missed him..

 

And then he caught Anakin’s eye, a small blush growing on his face when he realized Keon was staring back at him. He smiled, winking at him. Taking out of his phone, he very subtly texted him a _any chance i can see your tattoos tonight? ;p)_

 

_Bad intentions. Probably thinking something not suitable for a meeting- definitely not good right now. Fuck, you’re already a little red, aren’t you? Awful. You should leave. Like, now. Before anyone says anything._

 

Anakin barely gave the text another skim over, looking back up to Keon, sitting opposite him at the table. Running a hand through his hair, he popped the earphones back in and tried to focus on… basically anything but Keon propositioning him for sex again.

 

_You have to stay._

 

_Really fucking don’t._

 

_Keon’s here?_

 

Groaning in annoyance, he barely managed to stand up, pulling himself over to the door and opening it without a word given to the rest of the room. _Nothing subtle about that,_ he scolded himself again, barely focused on anything other than a, getting out of the meeting room and b, rechecking Keon’s text.

 

 _You wanna see my tats?_ He asked after a few seconds, pressing the send button before typing out another short message. _Don’t get your hopes up, kid. I might need some time to consider it._

 

 _You really need time to consider sex with Keon…?_ Well, to be fair, the answer would’ve been a raging no on most occasions, but… it almost felt strange. Too weird to be considered real. Shrugging, Anakin simple slipped his phone back into his pocket, walking down the long hallway in the hope that he could avoid the rest of the mafia somehow.

 

 _My room after meeting._ He added, giving a subtle frown as he did so. _Don’t be fucking late._

* * *

 

_what if i wanna see u now?_

 

Keon licked his lips, leaning back in his chair to reposition his already halfway erected cock from poking out of his jeans awkwardly. He felt too excited about that fact that he could finally see Anakin’s tattoos. Perhaps they could have other activities happening afterwards, something he’d be even more excited for than just seeing a tattoo. The fact that he had a tramp stamp, self admittedly, made him smile. He never thought of him as the type to have anything like that so it’d be rather interesting to see it.

 

_;o) can i get a pic, a spoiler almost? pls anakin? i’ll send you a pic of my piercings_

 

He wasn’t listening to what Julian had been saying- going on about monthly cost and whatever- fuck, this was so boring. All he wanted was to just go and see Anakin, suck on his tattoos and come over his uninked skin. Listening to mindless dravel that _didn’t even relate to him_ , it bored him beyond fucking belief.

 

Tapping on the table, he sighed once more.

 

* * *

 

 _He wants pictures now?_ Anakin furrowed his brow. Fuck, he couldn’t believe he was actually contemplating this- it felt like his sanity was slowly dissipating every minute that he talked to Keon. Was he really… really that interested? Trying to tease him? Fuck, it didn’t make sense. Even when the framer had told himself, numerous times, to _just go with it._

 

Shutting the door to his room behind him until he could feel the tiny click of wood hitting wood, his hand fumbling with the lock, he shakily looked back down at his phone. Well… it wasn’t… wasn’t really _that_ bad, right? If he sent Keon some pictures, or… no. No, he couldn’t believe he was actually considering this- having a sexual relationship with Keon, sending him pictures of his fucking body…

 

 _Fuck, gimme like five._ He replied quickly, sighing as his fingers fumbled with the fabric of the black shirt he was wearing, tugging it over his head before letting his hands fall to the buckle of his jeans, undoing the fly and sliding them down his legs so he was left standing in his boxers… did Keon want him to take those off too?

 

 _This is gonna be used as blackmail later, fuckin’ hell._ Still, he pulled off the tight underwear quickly, letting them fall around his ankles before stepping back with a muted sigh.

 

_What do you want to see?_

* * *

 

_Everything._

 

Keon cleared his throat, glancing up to see if anyone had caught that small smile that was growing rapidly on his face. He wondered if anyone would have noticed if he had decided to just slide his phone down underneath the table, undo his pants, and take a picture of his cock. If he’d just be quick enough, he’d be able to get away with it before anyone even had the thought of what he was doing.

 

Quickly undoing his pants buckle, he moved to reveal his throbbing his cock and clicked the button on his phone. Fuck- this was so exciting, wasn’t it? The fact that he was hard, sending dick pics to Anakin, and getting some of his own pics from him.. all just inches away from six other mafia members that would have no trouble taking his phone and reading all their messages, especially Vita and Jaina who’d both eat up the drama. It was hot. Way too hot for him to ever actually have imagined. Anakin was a lot kinkier than he’d originally thought.

 

Sending the photo, he smiled at the fact that he quickly received his own photo from the older man. He was attractive naked, a lot skinnier and bonier than he originally thought last night. More tattoos too, but they praised his body rather nicely. Rather nice looking tattoos, somewhat obscure ones lining his lower waist and curled under his soft breast. Still, they looked hot as fuck. He didn’t know if there was a word for being so turned on by the look of tattoos or whatever, but if there was, he’d definitely had it.

 

_hot. ;o i cant wait to see them. is gonna be fun to see you in the flesh.. excited to have you in my mouth._

 

* * *

 

He was turned on. It almost felt like he shouldn’t be- like it was in some way wrong or… disgusting to feel so turned on by so little. But then again, he clearly had worse habits- Anakin couldn’t deny that. Couldn’t deny that he was thinking more and more about the ‘what ifs’, the possibilities of what exactly was going to happen when he and Keon met in person… what Keon would want to do, if he’d be saying the same things about his body then…

 

He sucked in a breath, unsteady, letting his chest rise and fall as he stared down at the dimly lit screen, eyes flitting up to the locked door almost as though he were waiting. The meeting was probably over by now… did Keon actually want to… to show up? Fuck, or whatever? Maybe he was going to back out… maybe he wouldn’t actually come and Anakin had gotten himself all worked up over nothing. Maybe he should just put on some clothes before… before anything made this already awkward situation even more awkward.

 

Still, he couldn’t help giving a side glance to the cracked mirror that hung over his dresser, outlining the almost _attractive_ features of his body… maybe Keon wasn’t lying. Did he really find him attractive? It was the tattoos obviously- Anakin thought they were sexy, had been planning and inking them since… what, since he was 20? If it wasn’t that, he couldn’t see why… he looked almost too plain, maybe even a bit fragile, otherwise.

 

It was kinda crazy. Keon was attractive in all the right ways and he just… wasn’t. Regardless, though, he just replied with a _You’re gonna suck me off? What else do you wanna do to me? Meeting should be over… can’t wait to see you…?_

* * *

 

He only replied with a sharp _;)_. It was stupid, almost, and probably too cheeky for anyone else but Anakin.. which was good, he guessed, as long as Anakin liked him. Maybe the ginger would send him a message like the one he sent him more often now? He really wouldn’t mind if he did, would’ve made him a lot harder if he had decided to start do it.

 

Before he realized it, people were pushing their chairs back and leaving the room loudly. Fuck- he wasn’t even listening enough to know that the meeting was over. On most occasions, he’d be ashamed of himself for not listening even a little bit, but right now he was too heavily focused on texting and thinking about Anakin. Standing up, the man quickly made his way towards the door and almost skipped down the hallway towards Anakin’s room. This was so exciting, too much exciting for him to ever believe still..

 

_im so horny rn. excited to see u too._

 

Once he finally reached the room, he knocked quickly and heavily on the door with a bit too much enthusiasm. Anakin needed to answer the door now or otherwise he’d just pass out.. or have kept it unlocked, for fucks sake. All he wanted to do was stick his dick in the older man’s asshole and fuck him until all the pent up sexual energy he had in his body was gone.

 

The door opened, revealing the much smaller man stripped down to just his boxers. He smiled, briefly, before shoving his lips against his and wrapped his hands around the hemming of his shirt and proceeded to take if off of his toned body.

 

He was practically in shock when he opened the door and Keon was standing right in front of him- still dressed, staring down at him with an expression that literally only had one possible meaning. The framer almost opened his mouth, some sort of phrase playing on his lips that he didn’t even get out when Keon’s lips were suddenly crashing against his, biting down and pushing his tongue against the older man’s with too much desperation to ignore.

 

Anakin barely managed to slam the door shut behind them, hands running up and down Keon’s suddenly bare sides, fingers lightly toying with a ring on his left nipple, unable to betray a single notions as to what he was feeling on his face. Drawing his lips together with a long sigh, he pulls away, ignoring the way Keon’s hand reaches for his arm as he looks down for a minute. “You… never fuckin’ answered my question,” he said, softly, barely able to keep his gaze focused on anything for more than a few seconds. The room was practically spinning now- so confusing to him.

 

Hesitating for a second, the ginger quickly let his hand fall to his thin boxers, sliding them off as he gave a look back to Keon, raising his eyebrow. “You like ink?” He said, finally, walking back over to the disguiser and letting his hand curl around the back of the taller’s neck, fingers playing with the light blonde curls. “I saved the best for last,” he added, attempting to quirk his lips up in addition to the remark- to show some sort of excitement for Keon’s being here, or… or whatever he was supposed to do.

 

Turning around so Keon had a view of his tattooed shoulderblades and lower back, he tried to catch his breath. Unsure of what he was supposed to do from here out, he managed to rasp out a quick, “It’s interesting to finally see you in person… all of you.” His voice seems almost too deep, too husky, to betray anything but the excitement that’s building up in his chest by the minute. “You must’ve been thinking about this all day.”

 

Keon smirked, leaning in to press a kiss to the man’s tattoos. They looked marvelous, rather nice and attractive on his body actually. He pulled them off nicely.. honestly, his entire body was rather nice actually- more healthy than Aki, but still a lot smaller than him. Perfect, nonetheless. Chuckling, he graced his bony, ink stained hips with his palms before moving around to curl fingers around his erected cock. Anakin’s body went tense, but thankfully didn’t pull away and let him make quick strokes around the tip and shaft of it.

 

“I can see you have too,” he let his lips trail in closer to his body, pressing against his pierced ears. Toying with a metal ring, he thrusted his hips forward gently, using his remaining hand to free his cock from his pants and boxers. “It’s nice to see you completely free too, buddy.. fuck, you’re a lot better in the flesh than you are in photos. Didn’t really seem to do you justice, yeah? Should’ve given me your number sooner..”

 

Gently, Keon helped him bend over the bed, stripping out of his boxers as he threw them across the room. He was too into it- Anakin. The older man just seemed.. so stoic and unwelcoming before, but now.. now he was letting him fuck him in the ass and jerk him off, like he really wanted it to happen. As hot as it was, Keon hesitated to go any further for a moment. There was a chance that he was too stunned.. too scared to say no for some reason. Maybe he had doubts about fucking the man, but he worried about pushing him too hard.

 

“Tell.. tell me if you need to stop, yeah? I’m completely willin’ to do whatever you wanna do.. just wanna fuck you, mostly.”

 

He was half out of it, a sudden haziness settling behind his eyes, head too light and heated to really make sense of all this. Barely able to keep his breath steady, too focused on the way Keon's hands felt on his hips and his lips on his neck… it was all far too much to take in. Keon was hot, skin sweaty against his, muscles better defined against his back than anything, only serving to make the framer feel… inadequate.

 

Shaking his head, he choked out a “Keep going,” almost breathlessly, shifting his hips as he tried to steady himself against the side of his thin bed, a shudder running down his spine. He was too… nervous, excited, not even sure what to call it as he managed to force out a whisper of Keon's name. He didn't know if he was supposed to do anything- if the disguiser wanted him to beg or… move. Anakin couldn't seem to focus on anything but staying completely rigid, eyes shutting.

 

A heavy, shaking breath left his mouth, feeling Keon's hands sliding past his hips, fingers brushing over the sensitive skin of his ass, teasing the tattoos on his lower back. He could feel the other's thumb against his entrance, almost surreally, eyes shutting as he felt his cheeks turn red.

 

“Do… whatever,” he said, monotonously.

 

Keon stopped briefly for another moment, taking a deep breath before pressing his teeth down on his shoulder blade, sucking tenderly at the skin. The way Anakin was pressing back against him made him harder, hesitant for various obvious reasons.. it was hot, nice, perfect.. he didn’t know enough words to describe the way he felt right now. All he knew was that he wanted to fuck the tiny ginger until he was screaming.

 

“You’re so tight, man.. don’t do this a lot?” Just from that, Keon noticed the small blush on his cheeks deepen, shaking his head. He restrained himself from laughing, barely able to conceal a small smirk playing on his lips. Figures. The poor thing was obviously super scared and unsure of himself.. he needed something to help him figure out how to calm him down enough to get him to enjoy this. Keon hated forcing people to enjoy sex.. it was supposed to be fun, enjoyable.. not mind numbing terrifying.

 

Continuing to press rough love marks down his back that practically rivaled his brilliant tattoos. Anakin shivered underneath him, dropping slightly so that Keon had to place a hand underneath his body to keep him from falling. Once he was closer to his lower torso, he smirked at the small-ish tramp stamp that covered his lower back. It was cute- something he’d see a younger man inked with.. but hadn’t imagined with him.

 

“Like your tattoo here, Anakin,” he brushed a finger over the ink, kissing it fully. “Shows off your real personality..”

 

“My real personality,” the framer said with an amused tone, barely able to prevent the trembling of his thighs at the feel of Keon’s slim fingers resting over the tattoo, almost too gently to be believable. “You’re cute.” It’s subtle, but there’s some weight carried with it- something that almost seems to ease the situation, the tenseness in his body subsiding almost too easily… Anakin pursed his lips, barely letting a smile pass over them as he turned his head back to stare at Keon.

 

He looked even less real in this lighting, like some perfectly sculpted statue that was almost too handsome for words… those soft blonde locks of hair, barely tanned skin, the curve of his slim muscles, the way his mouth was almost smirking as he leaned down to press another kiss against the older man’s lower back…

 

Anakin shivered, letting his thighs slide apart from each other just barely, eyes shutting as he looked down to his shaking wrists, bracing his weight on the edge of the bed, exhaling with an almost-chuckle. “Keon, you said you’d make it worth my while…” he trailed off, voice having taken on a near-erotic tone as he shifted his hips against the younger man’s. “Try living up to your words, man… or I might not bother touching you back.”

 

Keon chuckled at his words, hands moving underneath his balls to caress them gently. He sounded so.. try-hard sexy? It was cute, appealing enough for him. A part of him wanted to tease him for attacking like this- another part wanted him to continue trying to do dirty talk.. he went with the former side. It’d be so fun to watch Anakin break down underneath him, come into his hands, moan his name thirstily..

 

Spreading his asscheeks away from each other, he pressed light kisses to the sensitive skin. He felt so soft underneath his lips, tasted perfect in his mouth. Anakin trembled at his touch, a light moan escaping his mouth. All he wanted to do was laugh- never before had he ever thought about what Anakin would sound like when he moaned, it never crossed his mind. It was nice to hear though- a large contrast from the usual dark, monotone voice he used daily. The amount of teasing he’d most likely get from Keon would be never ending..

 

“F-fuck, baby,” he chuckled under his breath, resting his forehead on his cheek. His tongue continued to tease his entrance, pressing close mouthed kisses to the hole. He could feel Anakin thrusting back against his lips, barely able to keep himself from falling against the bed. “Do you wanna get in a more.. comfortable position?”

 

“You’re… rimming me.” The statement was low, barely punctuated with even a hint of emotion, barely mentioned before Anakin slid a hand back to grasp at Keon’s shoulder, half-awkward and half-desperate, eyes shutting.

 

It was completely different than anything he’d felt before- the way Keon was all but teasing him, lips pressing light kisses against his spread thighs, his ass, tongue teasing the inside of his hole so well that he couldn’t keep the light, feathery moan from leaving his lips. The way his tongue skimmed over the puckered edges of his asshole, almost pushing in and spreading him out with a sudden wetness… fuck, had this ever happened before? He couldn’t think of it- the most… contact he’d had in terms of body was being fingered, or given a hand job… other types of… kink didn’t count, he didn’t think.

 

Trying to keep himself from thrusting back against Keon’s face, Anakin bit down on his lip, sliding up onto the bed and spreading his legs further, unable to maintain the bent-at-the-waist position the younger man had forced him into. When he felt Keon’s tongue sliding into him again, it only made a shiver run up his back, muscles tightening and clenching up as he pushed his hips against the sheets with a low groan. This felt so… degrading, almost. He wasn’t sure what it was about it that made it so good, actually, just the fact that Keon was so close, seemed to want him so much… it was almost nice.

 

Letting himself push himself up as much as he thought he could, the framer leaned forward, putting his weight on his elbows as he felt the disguiser continue to suck at his sensitive, untouched skin, fingers spreading him apart further until he could feel the tip of one pressing in just slightly. For a second, he wanted to tell Keon to wait- but what good was that going to do? It’d only make him sound weaker than he already did, like a girl. Fuck.

 

“M-more,” Anakin managed to stutter out, his toes curling. “Fuckin’- Keon, I… _damn.”_

 

Keon didn't hesitate to bite down on his thighs, moaning his name until he could feel Anakin trembling and spread his legs open more for him. He wondered how often this - _sex, blow jobs, rimmings.. any of it_ \- happened for him.. he acted so naive and inexperienced for this all- was this one of the few times that he’s ever had one of these before? Given his well known recluse reputation, he wouldn’t be surprised if he had only a few occasions in his belt, but he wondered if it only revolved around.. certain kinks, and not actual sex.

 

If he was correct about it, it wasn’t like he’d laugh at him or tease him about it- because there really wasn’t anything wrong with it, per se, but it did make him feel weird about doing this. Almost enough to feel bad because he did somewhat force the man to do this- didn’t give him a moment to say yes or not about this before he was forcing his tongue down his throat and grabbing his cock. For all he knew, Anakin just wanted to show him his badass tattoos and is only doing this out of obligation. It was a sick thought- and most likely wrong.. when was the last time that Anakin had announced that he didn’t like something? Fuck.. the few times he actually heard him talking, it was mostly when he was complaining about something.

 

Keon licked his lips, panting slightly. He considered pulling out of the boy and just cuddling with him, if he let him. It really wouldn’t matter if he did.. he didn’t think that Anakin really cared- would probably just be okay with him rimming and fingering his entrance. Keon really didn’t know what he wanted to do- he’d love to nail his tight ass and cover his ink with his come, but he felt too unsure on doing anything else thinking about this all. He worried somewhat about Jaina finding out - or; watching through her cameras - and showing Akivya or the entire mafia it all.. he didn’t think that Akivya nor Anakin would be able to take it.

 

And then, he could hear his name whispering on Anakin’s lips, body thrusting back against his fingers in a desperate plea for _him._

 

He could barely fathom what was happening, not when all he could feel were Keon’s fingers sliding into him, filling his body until he was so tight, clenching around the invasive digits and moaning, unable to keep himself from pulling away even when it felt like he should. Anakin tried to bite down on his lip, cover up the noises and the words that threatened to break free, but it was so difficult, with Keon’s free hand massaging his back and his fingers pushing into him, spreading him apart and curling against something that caused him to throw his head back and dig teeth into his tongue with a muted whimper slipping free.

 

He wants to tell him to stop- that anything more than this would just be unwanted, that Keon shouldn’t have wasted his time by trying to get sex from him or anything like that… wanted to tell Keon that sex meant different things for different people and they shouldn’t be doing this… but fuck, he was so turned on. The framer couldn’t even deny it, his entire body sensitive, trembling at the slightest touch of mouth or caress of hand…

 

He felt Keon slide fingers out of him, taking the time to turn around so he was on his back, looking up at the younger man and his beautifully sculpted features, thin lips angled in a questioning frown. Anakin took a deep breath, his hand sliding until it was braced between the disguiser’s throat and chest, just steadying itself, unwavering. He could feel how wide his eyes must be, wasn’t sure how he looked but knew it couldn’t be good, nothing like the stoic, blank expression he normally kept.

 

“Keon, I…” he barely knew what to say. “Just haven’t done this before. I… can you just let me think for a few minutes? I didn’t even know what you wanted from me until you asked me to send you pics, so… fuck, if I’m not at least a little… I don’t know. This is crazy, really. You don’t really want this.”

 

The look on Keon’s face told him otherwise, hurt and even more confused, almost worried… was he going to cry? As cute as it might have been on a regular basis (the framer had a thing for tears- he didn’t think anyone knew,) right now it wasn’t something he wanted in the least. Just when he thought Keon was going to stand up, pull away, say something, his voice was uncatching, slipping out again breathlessly.

 

“Wait… I didn’t mean it… like that, I guess. Please, stay. I just don’t really… I’m not used to this, you know? I don’t do this shit. Unless you’re talking via the net, but that’s not really the same. Just…” he sucked in a breath. “I… I want you to fuck me, Keon. But I need you to help me… do it? Fuck, how embarrassing.” He wanted to curse himself out for the sudden highness of his voice. “Just do something. Whatever the fuck you want. Fuck me- I want you to. I just… I just don’t want you to get turned off, because then all this would be for absolutely nothing, and that wouldn’t be cool.”

 

Keon nodded hesitantly, leaning down to capture his lips into his and rub his forehead against his exposing shoulderblades. He knew that.. that this was how the situation was most likely going to end up playing out. He really wasn’t upset, he didn’t think so anyway.. just disappointed that he hadn’t of told him already, that he built up to this and then just be shot down like some horny teenage boy. Foreplay was one of his favourite activities to do- he wanted to make Anakin feel comfortable doing this all, so watching him act like this just made him feel a lot worse than he really should be.

 

“Yeah,” he says after pulled away, hands curling around his neck as he looked back up to him. He looked so tired, almost scared of saying anything else in fear of making him even more upset. Keon could only imagine how he looked right now- how upset he looked, and he always did look upset when he felt upset; he was awful at hiding his true feelings. “I’m not gonna force you into doin’ anything, okay?” he leaned back up, pressing a soft kiss to his pierced brow. “We can take this slow.. or not at all. Fuck- your photos were hot enough for me, to be honest with you. I don’t really mind.”

 

He turned over on his side for a moment, feeling Anakin awkwardly attempting to rest his head on his shoulder. Anakin.. he was cute- confusing and very awkward, but he was someone that he really did enjoy. The naivety and almost insecurity he had was almost charming to a degree, completely erasing the tough, mysterious persona thing he had going on. Of course, he didn’t dare voice any of these opinions about the man. He wanted to tease him.. not shatter his self esteem like that.

 

“H-hey..” the blonde looked down at him, running a hand through his tangled red hair. Anakin briefly looked up at him, fingers toying with his nipple ring, ashamed and brightly coloured still. “If you.. you wanna fuck still, you know. Sit on my lap?”

 

Shifting uncomfortably, the framer simply stared at Keon for a few moments- the upset look on his face fading into something he couldn’t quite place, hand moving up to rest against his, Anakin’s fingers letting go of his nipple ring after a few seconds as he glanced back up to meet the disguiser’s eyes. _Fuck, he must think I’m such a fuckin’ idiot- should’ve gotten better social cues before I decided to try this._

 

And then what Keon said seemed to kick in and Anakin was raising an eyebrow, frowning slightly. _Sit on his lap? What good is that gonna do?_ Still, he leaned forward with a slight, barely audible kiss to Keon’s lips, before pushing him over and swinging a leg over his waist. “Okay, I’m in your lap. What do you want me to do?” His voice seemed too soft, suddenly, almost muted as he waited for the other man to answer with a sigh, flicking his pierced tongue against his lips.

 

Keon reached down, caressing his inner thigh before slipping around him to stroke his own erected cock closer to Anakin’s slick entrance. He was hoping he'd understand what he meant, but it seemed like that went well over his head. To be fair for him though.. he was so confused and nervous, there was no doubt that the inexperienced man wouldn't understand. It wasn't fair for him to be upset at this. At least he was still willing to fuck him, and go along with what he planned.

 

“That's good.. good. Try to impale yourself on my cock.. Promise it'll be good for you. You'll like it.”

 

 _Fuckin’ hell…_ was the only thought that crossed his mind, looking down at Keon with something he imagined was similar to distaste, raising an eyebrow. When Keon simply looked back at him, a smirk on his face, Anakin sighed, loudly. Pushing his hips forward against Keon’s, he felt the other give a soft, low pitched moan as he spread his legs apart just a tad more, his ass pressed right against Keon’s cock.

 

Slowly, he pushed himself down, sinking onto the blonde’s length with an almost impossible tension in his body, his spine locking up at the feeling of being _penetrated,_ by someone’s dick, nonetheless. It was different- than all the nozzles and that one sex toy Nanashi had given him on some random occasion, but… fuck, it was almost better, to feel Keon moving against him, hips bucking forward against his body with a low groan.

 

“Does it feel good, baby?” Anakin asked almost cockily, wishing almost that he could lean down and press his lips to Keon, but… _it just fucking hurt._ Closing his eyes, he tried not to focus on the pain that had suddenly started to grow, before blinking them open to see Keon staring back at him.

 

“Shit, man…” he muttered softly. “Okay. Move. Don’t make me beg.”

 

“But begging’s part of the fun,” he teased, leaning in to peck a kiss on his shoulder blade tattoo. The unamused look he got made him smirk again, lightly thrusting his hips against him. He was too unsure of what he really wanted.. Anakin looked scared almost, hesitant on admitting he liked it or not. Keon worried it was the latter due to the pained look on his face, nails digging into thighs. This could easily be one of the first times that he's ever had penetrative sex too.. he didn't really think having a hose fucked inside Anakin really counted. It was the only known experience he knew he had too.. fuck, _he asked to have Keon show him how to have sex even._ Technically, he was taking away his virginity.

 

Licking his lips, he reached a hand down wrap three fingers around his thin cock, stroking it gently against his stomach. He was so hard, impossibly hard really, he didn't know what Anakin wanted now.. did he even like being jerked off? Keon always found hand jobs to be rather hot and exciting, one of his favourite thing to do to his partners.. maybe he could convince Anakin to like it.

 

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, retracing a hand to place on his hips to steady himself better. He could barely keep up with the pace now, rough and untimed. As hot as it was, the ginger just riding his cock.. he wanted to feel some pleasure too. “Slow down.. let me get into a rhythm too, baby.”

 

Almost flustered at the comment, Anakin barely found the voice to say, “Yeah, sure, man.” He almost thought he should apologize too, but it just seemed so… strange, to be apologizing during sex. Fuck, he wanted this to be hot, not some amateur jack off session with him acting like an inexperienced teenage girl. The thought was almost annoying- actually, it was annoying. Very much so.

 

Still, he slowed his pace, lightly thrusting against Keon’s hips, rutting his lower body against the other’s thick cock, the way it felt so insanely hard… kind of small, to be fair, but it was nice. He liked it, the framer thought to himself. In a sense, it was like he was losing his virginity- fuck, Keon was so perfect, underneath him with his hands on the older’s hips, pulling him even further down. It was… sexy.

 

“This- ah- d-doesn’t… r-relationship with us now… n-not going to change, but… fuck, it feels so goddamn good, Keon. Y-you’re the only one I’d let do this to me- nngh, fuck. Harder, Keon, shit-”

 

Keon couldn't conceal the growing smirk on his face, licking his lips with a soft pant. Watching Anakin act like this.. moan, beg, and fucking quiver, it was beyond fucking hot for him. He wanted him to do this more.. a lot more. Wanted him to do this constantly, just ride his thick cock daily and let him come inside of him. It was too hot to pass up..

 

And then he could feel Anakin shiver on top of him, moaning his name loudly before hot come leaked down his chest. The ginger was barely able to hold himself up by a shaky arm, staring down at him with rosy cheeks and drool halfway leaking down his swollen lips. He tried to give him a light smile, panting lightly. It wasn't a moment later when he could feel the ever familiar shiver going through his back and emptying out of his cock, filling the older man with his sweet release. Anakin didn't seem to mind it, thankfully, licking his bright coloured lips tugging up in a small smile.

 

“Fuck.. sorry,” he leaned in the best he could, caressing the side of his face. “Want.. want me to make up for that too?”

 

His hand felt nice, brushing against the side of Anakin’s cheek gently enough that it seems almost imagined. The framer half wanted to cherish the embrace, push his head against Keon’s hand and feel more of the sweet, small touches, but it’s too… too much. He can barely understand why his heart is speeding up at the motion, looking down at Keon with his mouth open, unable to do anything but let out ragged breaths, squirming against Keon’s cock, still buried inside his ass.

 

“Don’t fuckin’ make up for i-it,” the older got out, his voice cracking as he tried to steady himself over Keon, giving up after a moment and slumping down on top of the disguiser’s body, his head spinning. “God… I feel like such an idiot right now…” he mused, licking his lips briefly as he felt cum staining the back of his thighs, leaking down his legs in a manner that was almost… pleasant. Was it supposed to feel like this?

 

“It’s stupid, and really, really bad of me to ask at this point, but… do you… want to just lie down… get to know each other?” He rolled off Keon’s body, falling onto the soiled bedsheets beside him, looking over to him with a brow raised. “I’m really bad at this whole ‘friends’ thing- or lovers, or whatever- if you couldn’t tell.”

 

Keon smiled, pulling the boy closer to his body. He was so warm, covered in sweat and his release, but otherwise pleasant to touch.. it felt nice, for once. He enjoyed cuddling with Akivya after they fucked, but lately they never did. It was all only done for pleasure and desperation because of Akivya’s condition, not out of the fact that he wanted to make love to his husband.. right after they both came, Akivya either left or went to continue to masturbate.. it wasn't fun like it used to be before Vita had decided to stick a fucking dagger inside him that caused it.

 

“Yeah.. I'd like that,” Keon pressed his lips to his cheek, moving to completely entrap the boy in his arms. He smelled so nice still.. he didn't think it was real. Maybe he was too tired now, most likely he was, but he still plunged his face in the crease of his neck and kissed it softly. “So.. tell me about yourself, Anakin?”

 

“What’s there to tell?” The framer answered, tilting his head to the side to better expose his neck to Keon, a hand sliding around to grasp the younger man’s arm, hand tracing over the skin just enough to cause a slight shiver from the blonde. Huffing, Anakin rolled onto one side so he was facing Keon, offering the younger man a tiny smirk before deciding on the proper words.

 

“Fine. Anakin. Recluse, loser and hopeless wreck. Not the mysterious asshole everyone thinks I am, although I’d prefer that. Also nothing like my namesake, Anakin Skywalker. Even though I’m sure the mafia is considered ‘the dark side’ in Salem. Fuck my parents for being movie junkies. I’m sure my sister didn’t like being named Nyota Uhura either- yeah, sadly, that’s not a joke.” A pause. “What about you?”

 

Keon concealed a smirk. “Sadly for you, I'm not that interesting.. I'm just the simple disguiser, beloved by everyone and hated by none. Sometimes referred to as daddy, but otherwise known as Keon. Not really sure what you want me to say about myself, really.. I can easily just sell you my biography if it'll help you, Skywalker.”

 

He chuckled, leaning forward to kiss his inked shoulder once more. There really wasn't anything that he could tell him to make him sound interesting.. not that he was really willing to share. Anything before he joined the mafia was to be ignored.. no one was allowed to know. Didn't really want people pitying him or pretend he was below them. “Immigrated here when I was twelve with Vita in tow, mom died when I was thirteen.. and then got here. That's about it.”

 

“More interesting than me,” Anakin finally said, scoffing slightly. “I bet there's a lot more to you than that… you can tell everything about me by looking at me now. My only friend is my tattoo artist, I learned everything I know about being social by watching the rest of you, half the phrases I know related to sex I borrowed from Nanashi, and the only thing I really care about is ink.” He paused, giving Keon a once-over. “I think you'd look nice with a tattoo. Something small. Nice nips though,” he flicked one of the piercings with his thumb. “I guess it shows your real character.”

 

Keon brushed a hand through Anakin’s scraggly red hair. “Thanks.. you should see my other ring.. shows my character even better.” He winked, quietly laughing underneath his breath. His phone rang from his jeans, a familiar ring tone that he absolutely knew who it belonged too- _Akivya._ Quickly moving off the sheets, he flipped the screen open to read: _I have something I need to confess to u._

 

Keon wasn’t sure exactly what to make of it- wasn’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing. The seeming blunt quality of the text was different than it usually was for Akivya- his husband was always the type to be excitable. Lots of letters, punctuation and emotes were common for Akivya. A message like this wasn’t. Hesitating, Keon typed back a quick _what’s up?_

It was a few seconds before the phone flashed again, another message appearing on the screen. This one was long- more than Akivya usually texted, which only served to make Keon’s stomach drop.

 

_:/ i’ve been seeing Gioia for a couple months. like, seeing her seeing her. um… it started before you and i were a couple, really. she and i had flings. and then you know, when she visited to apologize? i just… i had to be honest with you, bunbun. you matter more to me than anything. if i… if you’re upset about it… just let me know. i couldn’t keep holding it back any longer._

 

Keon couldn't help the growing pains that burrowed even further into his stomach at each letter. He didn't even know what to say.. he never expected for Akivya actually cheat on him. Well, he had his suspensions after watching Akivya sweating profusely and dripping in cum right after Gioia had ran out crying.. but he didn't ever wanted to think of that. The blonde couldn't figure out if he was upset or not.. because he really shouldn't be. Fuck- he was lying right down next to Anakin.. was he really in any position to way if it was mad or not.

A bit hypocritical, right?

 

_i had my suspicions, you know? tbh i cant be mad at u :\_

 

He licked his lips again, sighing as he pulled closer to Anakin’s body, who stared up at him confused and unsure of what to do. Leaning down, he pressed his lips against Anakin’s briefly before pulling out and whispering a faint, “say cheese,” and snapped a picture of the two of them lip locked. It felt.. degrading for Anakin, he had to admit this to himself.. fuck- he knew that he was married, so it wouldn't come out a surprise, would it?

 

_im sorry baby_

 

Anakin couldn’t keep his nerves from acting up, his breath suddenly heavy, speeding up almost to an extreme as he looked up at Keon. He wanted to shout- to ask him _what the fuck do you think you’re doing?_ or _bloody fuck, Keon, nobody’s supposed to see-_

 

Cutting himself off, he took some deep breaths, biting down on his lower lip before flicking his eyes up to the disguiser, unsure. He tried to calm himself down, staring at his tattooed arm while running a hand through his red hair, looking over to the side table and making a grab for his glasses. Keon was standing, looked almost upset when he finally focused in on the man’s face- he almost had to question if he’d done something to the younger man.

 

“Keon… what’s the picture for?” He asked, voice low. “You’re not… not supposed to. You- not with me. Nobody can know anything like… like this. Jaina- she’d find out, her and Vita. You fucking know it.”

 

Almost as soon as he got the words out, Keon’s phone buzzed with another text, the disguiser immediately unlocking it and looking down at the bright screen.

 

_oh my god. you did not. xDDD how?_

 

Keon sighed at the look of the framer, reaching out to caress his cheek again. He needed to explain why he had done that.. he really didn't want to though, not when he saw how upset and terrified the man was.. Jaina wouldn't ever be able to figure out how to see this.. fuck, he even deleted the photo right after he said it. “It's for Akivya.. don't worry about it, okay? I promise Jaina won't get it, baby.. chill? She can't get onto my phone, not ever..”

 

He leaned in again, pressing a kiss on his cheek. His words didn't seem to calm him down any.. if only, they seemed to make him feel worse. Sighing, he wrapped his hands over his shoulders and nudged his forehead against his neck. “Really. Anakin.. with the amount of shit I have on my phone.. if she wanted to get on, she'd have gotten on it already. We're fine..”

 

Looking up at Keon, Anakin shivered briefly, flicking his tongue against his swollen lips as he shut his eyes. It already felt too fucking weird- to have Keon here, with him, pressed against him and... _why would he be showing this to Akivya?_ The thought was enough that the framer almost wanted to cringe, pulling away from Keon and looking at him with a blank expression.

 

“So, you and Akivya…” he paused, drawing in a deep breath. “What am I to you, Keon? Did you make a bet with your husband about me? About how reclusive I am and how easy it would be to get me out of my clothes? Did you tell him you were going to fuck me? Is that all I fucking am to you, man? I… I thought…”

 

Keon stared at him in confusion, shaking his head. The fact that he was thinking this just made him feel even worse.. Keon genuinely liked him and wanted to fuck him.. “What? No! Anakin.. fuck, right now, you're sorts my lover,” he grabbed his hands. “Fuck.. I wouldn't even use my worst enemy like that.  Not to you even.. I like you, baby, really.”

 

He looked back down to his phone, licking his lips. Typing a quick _ill tell u later._ The blonde tried to embrace the man, only to be shoved back. His heart twitched. “Seriously, baby.. I do. Akivya didn't even know. Fuck- I wouldn’t.. wouldn't send you nudes in the middle of a meeting if it was because of a bet. Besides.. you reached out to me. Why would I do that to you?”

 

He had to turn the words over in his head for a moment. The chill in his spine hadn’t subsided, almost wanting him to shake harder- attempting to raise his head so he could look Keon in the eye, he fiddled with the metal ring in his brow, clenching his teeth. It was true- for the most part, or at least it made sense… somewhat, but… Keon didn’t seem like the type to send nudes during a meeting if he didn’t have a reason. Or… he’d texted him back. Anakin was the one who approached him, and he just…

 

“I feel like a total dick,” the older man admits, ruffling his hair with one hand before sighing, and moving closer to Keon again. “I know you wouldn’t… do anything like that. Fuck’s sake, I just… I don’t really do… people. You know, just… trust issues, or whatever shit they say nowadays. It wasn’t… I just… I like you, Keon. You seem like a fun guy. Nice, charming- whatever. I don’t know how this even happened, but… I don’t want you to fuckin’ leave.”

 

“And I won’t..” He leaned in again, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. “Don't worry, okay? I won't leave tonight.. we can stay here and just hang, kay?”

 

Anakin’s lip twitched in amusement, letting his hand curl around the back of Keon’s neck, pulling his head down so he was staring the ginger directly in the eye. “And do what?”

 

Keon smirked, pulling Anakin closer to his body. His lips briefly met his, tongue tracing his bottom one before his fingers slipped under the frame of his glasses and let them drop against the bedside table. “Come here.. let me show you.”


End file.
